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''     HOURS  WITH 


EMINENT  IRISHMEN 


AND  A 


GLIMPSE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY 


BY 

JUSTIN  H.  MCCARTHY,  M.R 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 


NEW  YORK : 

FORDS'  NATIONAL  LIBRARY, 

17  Barclay  Street. 

1886. 


^ 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Jonathan  Swift 5 

James  Clarence  Mangan, .13 

Miles  B}Tne, 21 

George  Berkeley,    . 30 

Gerald  Griffin, 39 

Patrick  Sarsfield,  . .  45 

Brian  Boroimhe,    . 52 

Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald, 60 

The  Earls, 68 

Oliver  Goldsmith. 76 

Henry  Grattan,     ..........  84 

Henry  Flood,         .  * .92 

Edmund  Burke loi 

Richard  Steele,              .........  109 

Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .117 

Lawrence  Sterne, 126 

Thomas  Davis,      ..........  134 

Thomas  Francis  Meagher,     ".......  141 

Charles  Lever,       .         .         .         .         .         *        .         .         ...  150 

John  Mitchell 159 

Some  Thoughts  on  the  Eighth  of  April 168 

The  Thirty  Tyrants,      .         .  .         .         .         .         .         .174 

Publishers  Note, 180 

The  Legends,         ..........  181 

Christianity,            ..........  193 

The  Norman  Conquest. 199 

Elizabeth, 210 

The  Cromwellian  Settlement,         .         ,         .         .         .         .         .  219 

The  Restoration — William  of  Orange, 229 

The  Eighteenth  Century, 236 

Emmet — O'Connell, 251 

Young  Ireland — Fenianism, 262 

The  Land  Question,      .........  272 

Home  Rule — The  Land  League, 291 

1591 


HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 


JONATHAN   SWIFT. 

A  DIM  Stone  upon  the  darkened  wall  of  St.  Patrick's 
Church  in  Dublin  sums  up  in  words  at  once  cruelly  bitter 
and  profoundly  melancholy  the  story  of  a  great  man's  life. 
That  mouldering  inscription,  niched  in  high  obscurity, 
which  sometimes  stray  pilgrims  from  across  the  seas  strain 
their  sight  to  decipher  in  the  gloom,  is  the  self-uttered 
epitaph  of  Jonathan  Swift. 

Hie  depositum  est  corpus 

Jonathan   Swift,  S.  T.  P. 

Hujus  .ecclesiae  cathedralis 

Decani. 

Ubi  sseva  indignatio 

Cor  ulterius  lacerare  nequit. 

Abi  viator 

Et  imitare  si  poteris 

Strenuum  pro  virili  libertatis  vindicatorem. 

'*  Here  resteth  the  body  of  Jonathan  Swift,  Dean  of  this 
Cathedral  Church,  where  fierce  indignation  can  vex  his 
heart  no  longer.  Go,  traveler,  imitate  if  thou  canst  a 
champion,  strenuous  to  his  uttermost  of  liberty." 

A  little  way  apart,  shadowed  by  his  name  in  death  no 
less  than  in  life,  lies  Stella.  The  pale,  dark-eyed  child 
whose  wide  eyes  filled  with  strange  fire  as  they  followed  the 
poor  and  lonely  scholar  through  stately  Shene  or  the  prim 
rococo  epicureanism  of  Moor  Park,  sleeps  as  she  lived  at 
her  m^aster's  feet.     She  dedicated  all  the  days  of  her  life 


b  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

to  Swift  with  a  devotion  which  is  well  nigh  without  a  parallel 
in  the  history  of  woman's  love  for  man.  As  we  stand,  awe- 
struck and  reverential  in  the  quiet  presence  of  the  dead, 
our  senses  seem  troubled  by  a  haunting  influence  as  if  a 
phantom,  vague,  veiled,  impalpable,  were  flitting  by  us  in 
the  twilit  air.  It  is  the  haunting  influence  of  the  secret  of 
those  two  tortured  lives,  the  secret  that  lies  buried  between 
their  graves. 

Never,  perhaps,  before  or  since,  has  the  ordinance  of 
heaven  brought  two  such  entities  together  to  play  the  part 
of  the  patron  and  the  patronized  as-Sir  William  Temple  and 
Jonathan  Swift.  To  Moor  Park,  trim,  stately,  formal,  a 
piece  of  not  displeasing  sham  classicism  in  the  midst  of 
the  pleasant  Surrey  hills  and  woods  and  waters.  Sir  William 
Temple,  Baronet,  and  one  time  Secretary  of  State,  had  be- 
taken himself  to  rest  his  mind  and  body  from  the  ungrate- 
ful toils  of  statecraft.  His  mind  he  soothed  in  an  amiable 
and  sufficiently  facile  commerce  with  the  Latin  muses,  in  a 
diplomatic  assumption  of  acquaintance  with  bewildering 
phases  of  the  Grecian  Grammar,  which  led  him  to  ludi- 
crous shipwreck  over  the  Letters  of  Phalaris,  and  in  the 
not  ungraceful  exercise  of  his  wit  in  the  composition  of 
essays,  of  which  posterity  still  remembers  at  least  the 
names.  His  body  he  solaced  with  the  pippins  of  Shene  and 
the  peaches  of  his  sunny  walls,  with  philosophic  prom.enades 
between  yew  groves  adorned  with  the  busts  of  Pagan  wis- 
dom, with  a  deferential  care  of  his  gout,  and  a  reverential 
eye  to  the  precepts  of  the  Ancients. 

To  this  well-meaning,  pompous,  blameless,  periwigged 
pedant,  the  most  eminently  respectable  medley  of  sense 
and  nonsense  that  even  his  age  produced,  there  came,  in 
the  later  years  of  the  dying  seventeenth  century,  a  young 
suppliant  from  Ireland,  a  penniless,  remote  kinsman  and 
patron-seeker.     His  baronetship's  most  humble,  obedient 


JONATHAN  SWIFT.  i 

servant  to  command — and,  unhappily,  his  servant  at  times 
dedicated  himself  to  the  adoration  of  Temple  in  terms  more 
complaisant,  more  servile  than  these — was  Mr.  Jonathan 
Swift,  a  young  student  from  Dublin,  with  much  wit,  less 
learning,  and  infinitessimally  little  means.  The  great  man 
was  gracious.  He  received  the  dark,  awkward  young  Irish- 
man into  his  service;  allowed  him  to  drudge  for  him, 
flatter  him,  fight  his  battles  for  him — most  notably  that  im- 
mortal "Battle  of  the  Books" — wait  upon  his  humors, 
swallow  his  sonorous  platitudes  and  tinsel  learning,  and  be 
in  most  things,  mental  and  physical,  his  decorous  and  de- 
lighted slave.  In  return  for  so  much  homage  the  stranger 
was  allotted  some  twenty  pounds  a  year,  a  place  at  the  ser- 
vants' table,  the  run  of  the  miscellaneous  agglomeration  of 
literature  which  Temple  called  a  library,  and  the  companion- 
ship of  Hester  Johnston. 

For  the  rest  of  her  life  Hester  Johnston — she  was  pre- 
sumably, indeed  almost  certainly.  Sir  William  Temple's 
daughter — devoted  herself  to  Swift.  There  never  was  in 
all  the  world,  or  out  of  it,  in  the  illimitable  kingdoms  of 
fancy,  a  more  famous  pair  of  lovers  than  these  two.  Lelia 
and  Majnun,  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Diarmuid  and  Grainne — 
repeat  what  names  you  please  of  famous  lovers,  that  the 
fancies  of  poets  have  ever  adorned  by  the  Tigris  or  the 
Avon  or  the  Blackwater,  the  names  of  Swift  and  Stella  are 
to  the  full  as  famous,  appeal  no  less  keenly  to  heart  and 
brain,  to  the  imagination  and  to  pity.  Happy  they  were 
not,  could  not  be.  My  mind  always  turns  when  I  read  of 
Swift  -and  Stella  to  that  luckless  pair  of  lovers  whom  Dante 
saw  in  the  third  circle  of  hell,  blown  about  forever  on  the 
racking  wind,  and  finding  comfort  through  the  lapse  of 
eternal  twilight  in  the  companionship  of  their  common 
doom.  They,  too — Swift  and  Stella — seem  driven  by  the 
pitiless  wind  of  fate;  they  have  fallen  upon  evil  days;  they 


»  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

are  greatly  gifted,  noble,  greatly  unhappy;  they  are  sus- 
tained by  their  strange,  exquisite  friendship,  by  the  com- 
munity of  genius,  by  a  tender  affection  which  was  out  of 
tune  with  the  time  and  with  their  troubled  lives.  So  long 
as  Stella  lived,  Swift  was  never  alone.  When  she  died  he 
was  alone  till  the  end.  I  remember  nothing  in  literature 
more  profoundly  melancholy  than  Swift's  own  eloquent 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  his  dead  wife,  written  in  a  room 
which  he  has  moved  so  that  he  may  not  see  the  light  burn- 
ing in  the  church  windows,  where  the  last  rites  are  being 
prepared. 

The  chief  events  of  Swift's  life  may  be  mentioned  well 
nigh  in  a  breath.  He  was  born  in  Hoey's  Alley,  in  Dublin, 
on  the  30th  of  November,  1667;  his  scholar  days  at  Dublin 
University  were  days  of  poverty,  of  moroseness,  of  what 
those  who  thought  themselves  wise  called  misapplication. 
He  wrote  and  read  what  pleased  him  best,  cultivating  his 
genius,  walking  his  own  wild  way  whither  it  led  him — and 
failed  to  get  his  degree.  Then  poverty  compelled  him, 
like  most  men  of  genius  of  his  time,  to  seek  a  patron. 
Swift  found  him  in  Sir  William  Temple,  a  distant  connec- 
tion, by  his  marriage  with  delightful  Dorothy  Osborne,  of 
Swift's  mother.  Sir  William  was  affable  enough,  accepted 
Swift's  services,  and  with  Sir  William  for  some  ten  years 
Swift  lived  in  a  decent  bondage,  broken  now  and  then  by 
fits  of  fiery  insubordination  succeeded  by  humiliating  self- 
surrender.  It  was  during  one  of  these  revolts  that  Swift 
took  orders.  Like  Hamlet,  Swift  lacked  advancement. 
He  had  known  the  honor  of  half-intimacy  with  royalty, 
had  trod  the  walks  of  Shene  with  William  of  Orange,  and 
been  instructed  by  the  Dutch  king  in  the  Dutchman's 
method  of  cutting  asparagus,  and  had  even  been  flattered 
with  promises  of  royal  favor.  Hut  when  Sir  William  Tem- 
ple died,  and  the  muses  had  duly  mourned  for  the  peri- 


JONATHAN  SWIFT.  ^-"      ^ 

wigged  seventeenth  century  Roman,  Swift  found  that  his 
hopes  from  the  King  were  vain.  He  prompted  most  fruit- 
lessly the  regal  memory;  then  in  despair  he  accepted  the 
chaplaincy  to  Lord  Berkeley,  one  of  the  Lords  Justices  of 
Ireland,  and  received  the  two  livings  of  Laracor  and  Rath- 
beggin,  in  the  diocese  of  Meath,  worth  jointly  some  two 
hundred  and  sixty  pounds  a  year. 

To  Ireland  and  to  Swift  in  Ireland  came  over  soon  after 
Stella,  with  her  companion,  and  friend,  Mrs.  Diugley. 
Stella's  youth  and  beauty  and  wit  made  her  many  friends, 
and  won  her  many  admirers.  One  gentleman,  indeed, 
pressed  her  so  hard  to  marry  him  that  he  came  near  to 
carrying  his  point.  The  friendship  between  Hester  John- 
ston and  Swift,  however  much  the  heart  of  each  may  have 
throbbed  with  a  warmer  feeling,  was  in  its  form  only  friend- 
ship. Even  the  scandalous  tongue  of  a  scandalous  age 
recognized  so  much,  and  spoke  with  a  most  unmodish  de- 
corum and  respect  of  him  and  her.  That  she  was  in  love 
with  Swift  it  would  be  folly  to  doubt,  but  she  seems  to  have 
once  thought  of  marriage  with  her  earnest  and  eager  suitor. 
Swift,  however,  dreading  the  thought  of  losing  her,  while 
seeming  to  acquiesce  in  the  proposed  marriage,  put  so  many 
ingenious  obstacles  in  the  way  that  the  match  was  broken 
off.  Poor  Stella  !  She  might  have  been  happier  with  that 
honest  Irish  gentleman,  the  companion  of  his  quiet  life, 
the  sharer  of  his  small  ambitions,  his  partner  in  obscure 
content  during  life,  and  in  the  world's  oblivion  after  death. 
But  she  could  not  escape  from  the  spell  of  the  curse  of 
Swift's  genius.  Who  now  remembers  the  name  of  her 
luckless  lover  or  heeds  where  he  sleeps  ?  But  the  world 
will  never  forget  Stella  and  her  sorrows,  or  think  of  her 
without  a  pang. 

Suddenly  Swift  becam.e  famous.  His  writings  have  at- 
tracted attention  in  the  great  world  of  T  ondon.     His  destiny 


10  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN-. 

carries  him  there.  He  becomes  the  companion  and  coun- 
sellor of  statesmen,  of  scholars  and  soldiers.  He  becomes 
the  most  remarkable  man  of  an  age  of  remarkable  men.  Of 
all  the  brilliant  figures  that  crowd  the  Court  and  the  draw- 
ing-room of  St.  James'  none  is  more  brilliant  than  that  of 
the  Reverend  Jonathan  Swift,  of  Laracor,  in  the  county  of 
Meath,  in  Ireland.  Out  of  that  galaxy  of  genius  and  wit 
and  statesmanship  which  has  earned  for  the  age  of  Anne  the 
imperial  epithet  of  Augustan,  Swift  shines  like  a  kind  of 
central  sun,  within  whose  orbit  lesser  luminaries  circle. 
The  poor  Irish  parson  crosses  St.  Georges'  Channel,  and 
in  a  moment  he  takes  the  lead  in  that  wonderful  London 
world,  is  recognized  at  once  as  the  peer,  and  more  than  the 
peer,  of  Bolingbroke  and  Harley,  of  Pope  and  Arbuthnot 
and  Gay,  of  Addison  and  Steele.  Three  names  stand  out 
conspicuously  in  English  history  during  the  age  of  Anne. 
The  name  of  a  statesman,  the  name  of  a  poet,  and  the 
name  of  one  who  was  both  statesman  and  poet — Boling- 
broke, Pope  and  Swift.  It  is  one  of  the  fanciful  amuse- 
ments of  the  historical  student  to  speculate  on  the  course 
which  Bolingbroke  might  have  run,  and  the  fame  he  might 
have  earned,  if  his  career  had  been  traced  under  happier 
auspices,  or  if  his  life  had  been  guided  by  more  fortunate 
stars.  As  it  is,  Bolingbroke  must  be  remembered  as  the 
politician  whose  schemes  failed,  and  whose  political  career 
concluded  at  an  age  when,  in  our  time,  men  would  be 
thought  almost  premature  in  entering  upon  public  life;  as 
the  adventurer,  the  plotter,  clutching  at  the  skirts  of  for- 
tune; as  the  unlovely  manufacturer  of  a  false  philosophy. 
Pope  was  famous  in  his  life,  and  his  fame  only  increases 
with  the  widening  generations.  But  neither  the  political 
genius  of  Bolingbroke  nor  the  literary  genius  of  Pope,  had 
the  same  influence  upon  their  time  and  upon  posterity  as 
the  genius  of  Jonathan  Swift. 


JONATHAN  SWIFT,  11 

That  reign  in  London  was  Swift's  summer.  It  was  dur- 
ing this  time  that  Swift  wrote  for  Stella's  eyes  that  immortal 
journal  wherein,  with  more  than  the  skill  of  the  Egyptian 
embalmer,  the  whole  of  that  many  colored,  fantastic  age  is 
preserved  for  us;  wherein,  too,  we  see  something  more  of 
the  heart  and  soul  of  Swift  than  we  are  ever  privileged  to 
find  elsewhere.  It  was  during  this  reign  in  London,  also, 
that  Swift  for  the  second  time  made  the  complete  conquest 
of  a  woman's  heart,  and  that  Stella  found  her  only  rival. 
Vanessa  is  scarcely  less  famous  than  Stella.  Poor  Miss 
Vanhomrigh  is  yet  more  unhappy  than  Hester  Johnston. 
There  is  no  need  to  linger  over  that  pitiable  tragedy.  It 
was  Swift's  fate  to  bring  misfortune  on  those  who  loved 
him,  and  starcrossed  Vanessa's  last  memory  of  Cadenus  is 
of  his  raging  eyes  as  he  breaks  in  upon  her  in  her  retreat  at 
Marley  Abbey,  near  Colbridge,  where  the  poor  soul  was 
cloistered  amid  her  congregated  laurels,  flings,  in  awful 
silence,  on  her  table  the  letter  she  wrote  in  the  anguish  of 
her  heart  to  Stella,  and  so  mounts  and  rides  furiously  away 
out  of  her  sight  and  out  of  her  life  forever.  The  world 
will  always  speculate  as  to  which  of  the  tv/o  women  really 
won  such  affection  as  Swift  had  to  offer.  To  my  mind, 
Stella  was  the  true  star  of  his  life,  and  poor  Vanessa's  pas- 
sion a  flamiC  he  had  never  meant  to  kindle. 

Swift's  bright  resplendent  rule  in  London  came  to  an  end 
with  the  crash  of  the  Queen's  death,  and  the  utter  rout  and 
ruin  of  the  Tory  party.  He  returned  to  Ireland,  to  his 
Deanery  of  St.  Patrick's,  to  write  the  "  Drapier's  Letters," 
to  become  more  famous  in  the  land  of  his  birth  than  he  had 
been  in  England,  to  marry  Stella  in  secret,  to  lose  her  and 
the  light  of  his  life,  to  outlive  her  for  seventeen  years,  and 
to  die  at  last  in  1745,  the  year  of  the  Young  Pretender, 
after  five  darkened  years  of  disease,  madness  and  decay, 
having  outlived  his  genius,  his  friends,  his  love,  a  human 
ghost,  a  shadow's  shadow. 


12  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

There  is  no  greater  and  no  sadder  life  in  all  the  history 
of  the  last  century.  The  man  himself  was  described  in  the 
very  hours  when  he  was  most  famous,  most  courted,  most 
flattered,  as  the  most  unhappy  man  on  earth.  Indeed  he 
seems  to  have  been  most  wretched;  he  certainly  darkened 
the  lives  of  two  women  who  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  love 
him.  But  we  forget  the  sadness  of  the  personal  life  in  the 
greatness  of  the  public  career.  He  was  the  ardent  cham- 
pion of  freedom;  he  was  the  good  friend  of  Ireland;  he 
was  always  torn  with  '^fierce  indignation"  against  oppres- 
sion and  injustice.  Thackeray,  whose  reading  of  the 
character  of  Swift  is  far  too  generally  accepted,  finds  fault 
with  the  phrase,  and  blames  somewhat  bitterly  the  man  who 
uses  it,  *'  as  if,"  he  says,  "  the  wretch  who  lay  under  that 
stone  waiting  God's  judgment  had  a  right  to  be  angry." 
But  it  is  certain  that.  Swift,  from  his  own  point  of  view,  did 
feel  a  fierce  indignation  with  all  wrong  doing,  with  all  in- 
justice, with  all  dishonesty.  He  was  an  erring  man,  but 
he  had  the  right  to  be  wrath  with  crimes  of  which  he  was 
not  guilty.  His  ways  were  not  always  our  ways,  nor  his 
thoughts  our  thoughts;  but  he  walked  his  way  such  as  it 
was  courageously,  and  the  temper  of  his  thoughts  was  not 
unheroic.  He  was  loyal  to  his  leaders  in  adversity;  he  was 
true  to  his  friends  who  were  sometimes  untrue  to  him;  his 
voice  was  always  raised  against  oppression;  he  had  the 
courage  to  speak  up  for  Ireland  and  her  liberties  in  some 
of  the  darkest  days  in  our  history.  To  Thackeray  he  is 
only  a  "  lonely  guilty  wretch  "  a  bravo,  and  a  bully,  a  man 
of  genius  employing  that  genius  most  evilly.  To  soberer 
and  more  sympathetic  judgment,  Thackeray's  study  of  Swift 
is  a  cruel  caricature.  He  may  have  been  "  miserrimus," 
but  when  Grattan  appealed  long  after  to  the  spirit  of  Swift 
he  appealed  to  the  memory  of  one  of  the  truest  champions 
of  Ireland's  rights  and  liberties  that  Ireland  ever  had 


JAMES   CLARENCE   MANGAN. 

The  years  immediately  preceding  1848  were  years  of 
great  revolution  and  counter-revolution.  The  thrones  of 
Europe  were  toppling  like  ninepins.  Kings  were  fighting 
for  their  lives,  flying  for  their  lives,  or  clasping  eagerly  at  the 
red  hand  of  democracy  in  the  desperate  purpose  of  warding 
off  destruction  by  an  assumption  of  brotherhood.  Insur- 
rection stirred  in  other  than  Continental  capitals.  In 
London,  on  Kennington  Common  and  elsewhere,  pale- 
faced,  flame-hearted  men  were  clamoring  for  the  six  points 
of  their  charter  and  wildly  talking  of  an  appeal  to  arms. 
Over  in  Dublin  Young  Ireland,  romantic,  rebellious,  its  lips 
touched  with  the  fire  of  Vergniaud,  its  heart  throbbing 
with  a  new  hope,  was  speaking,  writing,  preaching,  propa- 
gandizing, striving  passionately  to  quicken  the  inert  body 
of  the  country  with  a  transfusion  of  its  own  hot  blood. 
The  office  of  the  iV^/zV/^  newspaper  was  the  focus  of  all  this 
fiery  energy;  round  \.\v^  Nation  all  that  was  best  and  bravest 
in  Ireland  rallied;  in  its  pages  week  after  week  the  noblest 
voices  appealed  to  the  noblest  emotions,  the  love  of  country 
and  the  love  of  liberty.  The  list  of  those  who  made  the 
Nation^  of  those  who  kept  touch  with  it,  of  those  who  taught 
in  its  columns  or  who  practiced  what  is  taught,  is  the  roll- 
call  of  some  of  the  brightest  names  in  Irish  history.  All 
these  men  were  wild,  ardent,  passionate  politicians — all 
save  one.  As  we  read  the  record  over,  from  Davis  who 
founded  to  Mitchel  who  broke  away  because  his  strenuous, 
unyielding  spirit  found  even  the  Nation  lacked  gall  to  make 
oppression  bitter,  one  name  stands  out  in  strange  contrast 
to  the  rest — the  name  of  Clarence  Mangan. 


14  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

Men  still  live  who  knew  Mangan.  The  good  priest  who 
soothed  the  struggle  of  dissolution  between  that  tortured 
body  and  troubled  soul  still  ministers  to  a  generation  to 
whom  Mangan  is  but  a  memory.  And  yet  he  is  scarcely 
more  foreign  to  us  of  to-day  than  he  was  to  his  friends. 
I  was  going  to  add,  to  his  companions,  but  that  desolate 
spirit  had  no  companions.  He  walked  the  dark  way  of  his 
life  alone.  His  comrades  were  strange  shadows,  the  bodyless 
creations  wherein  his  ecstasy  was  most  cunning.  Phantoms 
trooped  to  him  from  the  twilight  land,  lured,  as  Ulysses 
lured  the  ghosts  from  Hades,  by  a  libation  of  blood.  But 
the  blood  was  the  heart's  blood  of  their  master,  and  their 
pale  lips  drained  it  till  he  died.  These  spectres  were  more 
real  to  his  eyes  than  any  of  the  warm-hearted,  strong-handed 
humanities  across  whose  busy,  restless,  feverous  life  he 
sometimes  flitted.  We  seem  to  see  him  hurrying,  on  his 
life's  most  melancholy  journey,  as  they  saw  him  gliding 
through  the  Dublin  streets,  like  some  embodiment  of  the 
weird  fancies  of  Hoffmann,  a  new  student  Anselmus  haunted 
by  the  blue  eyes  of  a  visionary  Veronica,  or  buried  among 
books  as  Mitchel  first  found  him,  his  brain,  like  a  pure  flame, 
refining  all  he  read,  and  transmitting  it  to  something  rich 
and  strange.  An  eccentric  phantasmal  figure  tightly  girt  in 
its  quaint  black  cloak,  the  fine  gold  of  his  unkempt  black 
hair,  as  delicate  in  its  texture  as  a  wom.an's  tresses,  escap- 
ing from  the  shapeless  hat,  which  shadowed  a  face  as  parch- 
ment pale  as  that  of  Richter's  "  Siebinkaes."  Like  Jean 
Paul's  immortal  *'  Poor's  Advocate,"  the  eyes  of  Mangan 
were  ever  in  the  stars  and  his  soul  in  the  blue  ether.  He 
seemed  a  creature  too  fantastically  compounded  for  the 
common  life  and  the  work-a-day  world.  The  Persian  poet, 
Omar-i  Khayyam,  declares  in  one  of  his  verses  his  belief 
that  when  first  his  clay  was  fashioned  some  property  of  the 
vine-tree,  some  flavor  and  perfume  of  the  grape,  was  subtly 


JAMES  CLARENCE  MANGAN.  15 

intermixed  with  it.  Applying  this  fancy  of  the  Persian  star- 
gazer  to  poor  Mangan's  story,  it  might  almost  seem  as  if 
the  sands  that  had  fused  to  form  his  glassy  essence  grains 
of  a  gold  unknown  to  earth,  drop  of  some  elixir  compounded 
of  no  earthly  juices,  had  oddly  blended.  His  inexplicable 
spirit  seems  more  afifined  to  the  vaporous  presences  that 
hover  around  Faustus  in  his  study,  and  that  seem  to  hover 
around  Mangan  in  his  garret,  than  to  the  eager,  active  men 
who  were  striving  to  break  up  an  old  world  and  mould  a  new 
one  out  of  its  pieces. 

Such  was  the  amazing  exterior  of  a  ^reat  poet.  Mangan 
is  the  brother — the  intellectual  peer — of  Moore  and  of 
Davis.  Certain  of  his  poems  are  among  the  most  precious 
possessions  of  Irish  literature.  The  "  Time  of  the  Barme- 
cides "  is  perhaps  the  best  known  of  all  his  writings;  it  is, 
to  my  thinking,  unquestionably  the  most  beautiful.  It  pro- 
fesses to  be  a  rendering  from  the  Arabic;  but  the  Oriental 
student  will  ransack  in  vain,  for  its  original,  the  divans  of 
any  of  that  bright  constellation  of  courtly  poets  who  clus- 
tered around  the  throne  of  the  Barbarous  Kalifeh  Haroun 
Er  Resheed  or  his  illustrious  successor.  He  will  pore  in 
vain  over  that  vast  anthology  of  Eastern  verses  which  star 
the  lengthy  course  of  the  "Thousand  Nights  and  One 
Night."  The  Arabic  from  which  the  "  Time  of  the  Barme- 
cides "  was  taken,  never  yet  flowed  from  a  reed  poised  in 
the  cunning  fingers  of  a  scribe  in  Cairo  or  Stamboul  or 
Damascus,  never  ran  from  right  to  left  in  the  fantastic 
strokes  and  curves  and  the  dots  of  Eastern  script  across  the 
yellow  surface  of  some  sweet-scented  and  gilded  skin. 
Clarence  Mangan  was  not  an  Orientalist.  He  needed  no 
knowledge  of  the  "tongues  of  the  sunrise"  to  bring  his 
fine  spirit  into  sympathy  with  the  fascination  of  the  East. 
A  man  may  be  a  poet  and  a  scholar,  too,  of  Oriental  sciences. 
Sir  William  Jones  yesterday  and  Edwin  Arnold  to-day  are 


16  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

proofs  that  slumber  on  divan  of  Hafiz  or  sojourn  in  the  rose 
gardens  of  Saadi  lays  no  spell  for  silence  or  for  stammering 
upon  lyric  lips.  But  Mangan  pressed  the  pillows  of  the 
couch  of  Hafiz,  and  breathed  the  perfume  from  the  up- 
turned roses  of  Saadi' s  garden  by  the  right  of  his  fine 
genius.  The  liberty  of  the  cities  of  Shiraz,  and  Bagdad, 
and  Grand  Cairo,  and  Istamboul  was  his  without  crossing 
the  Seven  Seas  or  treading  a  mile  of  desert.  The  shy, 
blue-cloaked  student  could  touch  all  common  things  with 
the  talisman  of  his  marvellous  imagination,  and  life  was  for 
him  an  enchanted  phantasmagoria;  he  lived,  not  with  what 
he  saw,  but  what  he  wished  to  see.  The  turbid  Liffey 
creeping  beneath  the  civic  bridges  became  in  his  eyes  the 
Tigris,  reflecting  in  its  shining  stream  the  thousand  lights 
from  the  Kalifeh's  windows,  or  the  Nile  above  whose  yellow 
bosom,  starred  with  Lotus  blossoms,  the  lordly  iris  winged 
its  way,  or  Rocknabad  reflecting  the  cypress  groves  of 
Mosella  and  echoing  along  its  silver  ripples  the  ghazels  of 
Hafiz. 

"  I  see  rich  Bagdad  once  again, 
With  its  turrets  of  Moorish  mould, 

And  the  Khalif's  twice  five  hundred  men, 
Whose  binishes  flamed  with  gold; 

I  call  up  many  a  gorgeous  show. 
Which  the  pail  of  Oblivion  hides — 

All  passed  like  snow,  long,  long  aeo, 
With  the  Time  of  the  Barmecides." 

The  dreamer  and  poet  of  those  verses  had  no  need  of  travel 
or  of  grammars  to  unlock  for  him  the  secrets  of  the  East. 
So  potent  a  fancy  could  convert,  without  an  effort,  the  Dub- 
lin quays  into  the  teeming,  glittering  bazaar,  the  Four  Courts 
into  the  Mosque  of  the  Sultan,  the  distant  trees  of  Phoenix 
Park  into  the  palm  grove,  ending  where  the  yellow  desert 


JAMES  CLARENCE  MANGAN,  17 

widens  out  into  immensity.  It  could  transform  the  passers- 
by  into  Mecca  pilgrims,  merchants  from  Moussoul,  mas- 
querading Kalifehs  and  melancholy  Khalendeers.  .  It  could 
conjure  up  the  long  caravan  of  camels  in  Grafton  street,  and 
transmute  the  drone  of  the  ballad  singer  in  the  kennel  to 
the  rise  and  fall  of  a  melody  sung  long  centuries  ago  by  the 
Prince  of  Persia  beneath  the  golden  lattice  of  Schemzelnihar. 

The  bare  facts,  the  meagre  outlines,  of  Mangan's  life  are 
familiar  to  most  students  of  Irish  literature,  and  need  not 
be  here  re-enumerated.  Of  the  real  life,  the  existence 
burning  itself  fiercely  out  behind  that  ghostly  mask,  few 
knew  anything,  none  knew  much.  He  once  wrote  to  Duffy, 
"How  little  do  you  know  of  the  man  in  the  cloak,"  and 
the  words  read  even  now  like  an  enigmatic  epitaph  upon 
the  being  who  wrote  them.  Not  long  before  his  death  he 
agreed  to  write  his  autobiography,  and  did  pen  a  handful 
of  pages  full  of  painful  interest  as  a  morbid  study  of  his 
own  diseased  mind,  but  valueless,  and  worse  than  valueless, 
as  a  picture  of  his  life.  Goethe  ,when  he  wrote  his  autobi- 
ography called  it  "  Truth  and  Poetry,"  to  warn  a  credulous 
world  that  they  must  not  take  all  it  tells  as  rigid  history. 
So  Mangan  in  his  fragment  weaves  truth  and  fancy  into  a 
glittering,  bewildering  web — weaves  for  a  little,  and  then 
his  fingers  fall  from  the  loom,  and  so  De  Quincy's  *'  Opium- 
Eater"  remains  without  its  true  companion. 

I  have  said  in  the  earlier  part  of  this  paper  that  Mangan  was 
not  a  politician.  Nor  was  he  in  any  active  sense,  in  the  sense 
in  which  his  colleagues  on  the  Nation  were  politicians,  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  impetuous  brotherhood  of  Young  Ire- 
land were  politicians,  but  if  his  student  spirit  shunned  the 
fervid  works  and  days  of  those  who  followed  Smith  O'Brien, 
,who  hung  upon  the  burning  words  of  Meagher,  and  who 
coined  their  youth  and  their  energy  into  prose  and  verse, 
and  public  speeches  all  devoted  to  the  one  purpose  of  re- 


18  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

generating  Ireland,  it  must  not  be  for  a  moment  imagined 
that  Mangan  was  indifferent  to  his  country  or  obHvious  of 
her  cause.  He  served  her  well  with  songs  that  breathe  a 
spirit  of  patriotism  as  pure  and  as  passionate  as  that  of 
Davis.  He  was  prepared  to  serve  her  to  sterner  purpose 
still  if  he  were  called  upon.  In  1848,  when  rumors  began 
to  circulate  of  the  Government's  intention  to  suppress 
the  United  IrisJwian^  Mangan  immediately  wrote  a  letter  to 
John  Mitchel,  which  Mitchel  quotes  as  the  only  expression 
in  prose  of  Mangan's  political  sentiments  which  he  had  ever 
seen  or  heard  of.  I  make  no  apology  for  quoting  it  again 
as  a  proof  that  the  lonely,  retiring  spirit  did  not  shrink  from 
struggle,  that  the  wretched  body  could  knit  itself  together 
to  face  and  to  brave  peril: 

"  My  Dear  M. — There  is  a  rumor  in  circulation  that  the 
Government  intend  to  commence  a  prosecution  against 
you.  Insignificant  an  individual  as  I  am,  and  unimportant 
to  society  as  my  political  opinions  may  be,  I,  nevertheless, 
owe  it,  not  merely  to  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me,  but 
to  the  cause  of  my  country,  to  assure  you  that  I  thoroughly 
sympathize  with  your  sentiments,  that  I  identify  my  view 
of  public  affairs  with  yours,  and  that  I  am  prepared  to  go 
all  lengths  with  you  and  your  intrepid  friend,  Devin  Reilly, 
for  the  achievement  of  our  national  independence.  I  mean 
to  write  you  in  a  few  days,  a  long  letter  explanatory  of  the 
cause  which,  I  think,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  every  Irish 
patriot  to  pursue  at  the  present  eventful  epoch.  Meanwhile 
you  are  at  liberty  to  make  what  use  you  please  of  this  pre- 
liminary communication. — Yours  in  life  and  death, 

"  James  Clarence  Mangan." 

Such  is  Mangan's  political  confession  of  faith,  strong 
enough  to  satisfy  the  most  devoted  disciple  of  Meagher,  or 
Fintan  Lalor  or  Mitchel  himself.     It  is  the  only  one  we 


JAMES  CLARENCE  MANGAN.  19 

have.  The  "long  letter  explanatory"  which  Mangan 
somewhat  naively  promises  to  Mitchel  with  a  sweet  un- 
worldly simplicity,  never  came  to  hand,  never  took  definite 
shape,  never  more  was  heard  of.  By  the  time  that  the  ris- 
ing took  place,  Mangan's  career  was  rapidly  running  to  its 
close.  His  fame  was  shattered,  his  glorious  mind  enfeebled; 
the  last  months  of  his  life  are  a  pitiable  record  of  squalid 
and  sordid  debauchery.  Seldom  has  the  flame  of  a  rare 
genius  flickered  down  more  lamentably  to  its  embers. 
Poor,  miserable,  abased,  defying  all  the  efforts  of  the  few 
true  friends  who  remained  to  him  to  lift  him  from  the  hor- 
ror of  his  destruction,  he  drifted  from  degradation  until  at 
last  the  sea-sick,  weary  barque  of  his  ruined  body  and  de- 
throned mind  floated  into  the  final  harborage  of  the  hos- 
pital, where  on  the  20th  of  June,  1849,  he  shook  the  yoke 
of  insuspicious  stars  from  his  world-wearied  flesh. 

Strangely  enough,  there  died  also  across  the  Atlantic  in 
the  same  year,  and  also  in  an  hospital,  another  poet  whose 
gifts  were  curiously  akin  to  Mangan's,  who  had  found  in- 
spiration for  much  of  his  own  music  in  Mangan's  writings, 
and  whose  life,  like  Mangan's,  became  at  the  last  a  chronicle 
of  ignominy  and  of  decay.  Edgar  Allen  Poe  has  been  sup- 
posed, and  not  unnaturally  supposed,  to  have  found  in  the 
repeated  burdens  of  such  poems  as  the  *'  Time  of  the 
Barmecides"  and  "Dark  Rosaleen"  the  suggestion  for 
those  complicated  and  slightly  varying  repetitions  which 
lend  such  a  weird  melody  and  charm  to  "Ulalume"  and 
"  Lenore."  The  two  poets  had  much  in  common,  their 
wild,  erratic  genius,  their  hopeless  subjection  to  the  treach- 
erous inspiration  of  wine  and  of  brain-destroying  drugs, 
their  untimely  deaths,  and  their  common  ending  in  an 
hospital  ward.  But  of  the  two  Mangan  is  the  most  to  be 
pitied.  Poe's  career  was  dark  enough,  but  it  was  not  all 
unhappy.       He   had    loved    and    been   loved;    there   were 


20  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

moments  in  his  wasted  existence,  even  long  intervals,  of 
calm  and  peace.  But  Mangan's  life  is  one  of  almost  un- 
mitigated gloom.  The  days  of  his  youth  were  darkened, 
it  is  said,  by  a  hopeless  passion,  his  heart's  manhood  with- 
ered into  premature  old  age.  We  are  told  that  it  was  her 
fault;  she  seems  to  have  been  cruel;  she  blighted  his  life, 
but  she  made  him  a  poet.  The  price  was  hard  for  the  man 
to  pay.  The  poet  who  in  the  Persian  legend  gains  the  gift 
of  song  by  a  patient  vigil  for  forty  sleepless  nights,  paid  a 
lighter  penalty  for  his  immortality  than  his  Irish  follower. 
Life  was  to  Mangan  one  long  denial.  *'  No  one  wish  of  his 
heart,"  says  Mitchel,  '*  was  ever  fulfilled;  no  aspiration  sat- 
isfied." He  was  as  passionately  Oriental  in  his  dreams  and 
in  his  thoughts  as  Beranger  was  Hellenic.  His  soul  thirsted 
for  the  desert,  for  blue  domes  and  white  walls  and  the  shade 
of  tropic  trees,  as  the  French  poet  thirsted  for  the  clear 
sky  and  the  pellucid  air  and  the  olive  groves  of  Attica;  and 
both  thirsted  in  vain.  Mangan's  whole  life  was  passed 
within  the  gloomy  streets  of  a  populous  city.  His  soul 
longed  for  freedom,  but  his  body  was  bound  forever  within 
the  limits  of  the  town  where  he  was  born;  where  his  miser- 
able life  dragged  out  its  course;  where  he  died  and  lies 
buried.  If  he  could  have  faced  the  denials  of  destiny  with 
an  austere  renunciation,  if  he  could  have  opposed  a  monas- 
tic fortitude  to  the  buffets  of  the  world,  his  might  have  been 
a  serener  if  not  a  happier  story.  But  the  passionate  long- 
ing after  the  ideal  drove  him  to  those  deadly  essences  which 
fed  for  a  time  the  hot  flame  of  his  genius  at  the  price  of 
his  health,  his  reason,  and  his  life.  Genius  and  misery 
have  been  bed-fellows  and  board  brothers  often  enough,  but 
they  have  seldom  indeed  been  yoked  together  under  condi- 
tions more  tragic  than  those  which  make  Mangan's  story  a 
record  of  despair.  I  am  at  a  loss  which  most  to  marvel  at, 
the  brightness  of  his  genius  or  the  darkness  of  his  ruin. 


MILES  BYRNE. 

In  the  early  years  of  the  Nation  newspaper,  when  "  Young 
Ireland  "  was  scarcely  yet  recognized  as  the  name  of  the  new 
movement,  there  came  to  Gavan  Duffy  a  remarkable  letter 
from  abroad.  The  letter  hailed  from  France;  it  was  written 
by  a  distinguished  officer  in  the  French  service,  and  it  ex- 
pressed the  warmest  sympathy  with  the  National  agitation 
which  was  just  beginning  to  make  itself  felt  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  Ireland.  The  sympathy  of  that  soldier 
of  France  was  especially  dear  to  Irishmen  just  then,  for  he 
had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  two  insurrections  of  1798 
and  1803,  and  his  name  vvas  Miles  Byrne  of  Wexford.  Miles 
Byrne  was  at  that  time  more  than  sixty  years  of  age.  He 
survived  the  destruction  of  "  Young  Ireland  "  for  fourteen 
years,  and  died  in  Paris  in  the  January  of  1862.  Many 
brave  and  famous  Irishmen  sleep  their  last  sleep  in  foreign 
soil.  The  European  continent,  and  the  new  world  beyond 
the  Atlantic,  are  studded  with  their  graves.  No  one  of  all 
these  tombs,  the  illustrious  shrines  of  Irish  Nationality, 
should  be  dearer  in  the  eyes  of  Irishmen — not  even  the 
twin  graves  of  the  Roman  Janiculum,  where  Tyrone  and 
Tyrconnell  rest  from  their  labors,  nor  the  grave  of  Thomas 
Addis  Emmet,  in  New  York — than  the  monument  in  Mont- 
martre  which  records  the  resting-place  of  Miles  Byrne. 

Nothing  in  the  history  of  Ireland  is  more  impressive  than 
the  honor  and  glory  earned  by  Irishmen  in  foreign  military 
services.  The  long  succession  of  disastrous  wars  which 
drove  Irish  officers  and  soldiers  to  seek  service  across  the 
seas  and  beneath  other  than  their  own  banners  has  enriched 


22  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

the  roll-call  of  Spanish,  of  Austrian,  and  of  French  regi- 
ments with  some  of  their  best  and  bravest  leaders.  There 
are  men  at  this  moment  holding  high  military  rank  in 
Madrid  and  in  Vienna  who  are  the  bearers  of  names  most 
characteristically  Irish,  and  who  are  the  descendants  of  gal- 
lant refugee  ancestors  who  carried  their  bright  swords  into 
the  ranks  of  foreign  states.  In  France  the  deeds  of  the 
Irish  brigade  have  become  a  part  of  her  National  history. 
Patrick  Lucan,  of  Sarsfield,  and  the  gallant  gentlemen  who 
followed  him  beneath  the  lilies  of  France  from  the  fatal 
walls  of  Limerick,  Thomond,  and  Lally  and  Dillon,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  bright  names  that  star  its  record,  taught 
France  that  she  had  no  better  soldiers  beneath  her  standard 
than  the  exiled  and  impoverished  Irish  chieftains.  For 
more  than  two  generations  the  story  of  the  Irish  Brigade 
shines  with  ever-increasing  splendor  in  the  annals  of  France. 
We  hear  of  it  no  more,  however,  after  the  French  Revolution, 
after  the  old  order  of  things  had  been  so  fearfully  shattered 
in  the  cataclysm  of  1 789-1794.  The  Irish  Brigade  expired 
with  the  latest  of  its  illustrious  leaders,  with  Daniel  O'Con- 
nell,  the  uncle  of  a  man  who  was  destined  to  make  the  old 
name  yet  more  famous. 

The  extinction  of  the  Irish  Brigade  in  nowise  deprived 
the  French  armies  of  the  support  of  the  Irish  soldiers  seek- 
ing for  a  field  of  honorable  action;  in  nowise  decreased  the 
desire  of  the  exiled  Irish  gentleman  to  wear  the  French 
uniform,  or  the  eagerness  of  the  military  authorities  of 
France  to  accept  and  appreciate  his  services.  The  whiff 
and  wind  of  the  revolution  overthrew  many  things  at  v/hich 
it  did  not  directly  strike,  and  the  Irish  Brigade  happened 
to  be  one  of  these.  For  a  time  there  was  chaos.  While 
the  ragged  armies  of  the  Republic  were  trampling  over  half 
the  battlefields  of  Europe  at  the  heels  of  leaders  nameless 
yesterday,  and  striking  the  terror  of  the  tricolor  into  the 


MILES  BYRNE.  23 

hearts  of  the  discipHned  armies  of  Austria  and  of  Italy, 
there  was  neither  time  nor  fitness  for  the  formation  of 
special  foreign  legions.  But  with  the  establishment  of  the 
Consulate,  and  the  gradual  composition  of  order  out  of 
anarchy,  the  old  system  revived  under  a  new  form  and 
under  a  new  name.  The  Irish  Legion  which  the  First  Con- 
sul called  into  existence  carried  out  the  military  traditions 
of  the  old  historic  Irish  Brigade.  Only  the  military  tra- 
ditions, however.  The  Irish  Brigade  was  an  eminently 
monarchical  institution.  It  was  largely  composed  of  the 
scattered  adherents  of  the  House  of  Stuart,  and  men  who 
drained  their  glasses  to  the  health  of  King  James  the  Third 
and  of  Charles  Edward,  of  men  whose  hearts  were  loyal  to 
St.  Germains,  and  v/ho  hated  the  white  horse  of  Hanover, 
not  merely  because  it  was  the  standard  of  England,  but  be- 
cause it  was  the  emblem  of  George  the  Elector  who  had 
supplanted  James  the  King. 

The  new  Irish  Legion  was  composed  of  men  inspired  by 
widely  differing  feelings.  Its  members  acknowledged  no 
allegiance  to  the  House  of  Stuart;  were  swayed  by  no  deep- 
seated  belief  in  the  principles  of  absolute  government. 
Their  opinions  were  generally  Republican;  their  theories 
of  statesmanship  had  been  born  behind  the  bayonets  of  the 
American  Volunteers,  had  been  fostered  by  the  first  im- 
pulses of  the  French  Revolution,  and  if  shaken  for  a  time 
by  the  excesses  of  the  Mountain  and  the  spectacle  of  the 
revolutionary  Saturn  devouring  its  owm  children,  had  been 
reassured  and  encouraged  by  the  political  order  and  mili- 
tary fame  of  the  First  Consul.  Their  devotion  to  Ireland 
was  devotion  to  her  alone,  unmixed  with  any  affection  for 
any  English  dynasty;  their  antagonism  to  England  was  to 
the  dark  mother  of  the  Penal  Laws,  and  not  to  the  up- 
holder of  the  House  of  Hanover  and  the  enemy  of  the 
House  of  Stuart.     The  men  of  the  Irish  Legion  wished  a 


24  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

plague  on  both  their  Houses  as  heartily  as  Mercutio.  They 
rallied  beneath  the  red,  white  and  blue  of  the  Republic  with 
the  same  passionate  enthusiasm  that  spurred  their  ancestors 
to  serve  the  Bourbon  lilies,  but  they  did  so,  not  at  all  be- 
cause France  had  been  the  refuge  and  shelter  of  the  Stuarts, 
but  because  France  promised  to  be  the  friend  of  Ireland. 

In  the  November  of  the  year  1803  the  First  Consul, 
Bonaparte,  issued  a  decree  for  the  formation  of  an  Irish 
Legion.  The  Legion  was  to  consist  of  three  regiments — 
one  of  cavalry,  one  of  infantry  and  one  of  artillery.  There 
v/as  a  young  Irish  gentleman  then  in  Paris  who  was  eager 
to  seize  the  opportunity  of  serving  France.  He  had  only 
just  reached  France,  under  circumstances  of  the  greatest 
difficulty  and  danger,  and  after  playing  for  the  second  time 
a  prominent  part  m  a  desperate  and  unsuccessful  insurrec- 
tion. Young  Miles  Byrne — he  was  barely  twenty-three 
years  of  age — only  three  months  earlier  had  waited  with  a 
beating  heart  and  high  hopes  at  the  Coal  quay  for  the  signal 
from  Robert  Emmet  which  was  to  place  Dublin  Castle  in 
the  hands  of  the  insurgents  and  herald  the  establishment  of 
a  Provisional  Government.  Little  more  than  a  month  had 
clasped  since  the  execution  of  Emmet  before  Miles.  Byrne 
received  his  commission  as  a  Lieutenant  of  Infantry  in  the 
French  service  in  the  Irish  Legion. 

At  the  same  time  when  the  young  Wexford  gentleman 
was  receiving  his  first  commission,  another  distinguished 
Irishman,  another  and  more  famous  actor  in  the  drama  of 
Ninety-Eight,  was  appointed  to  one  of  the  highest  grades 
in  the  French  army.  This  was  Arthur  O'Connor,  Lord 
Longueville's  rebel  nephew,  the  Protestant  champion  of 
Catholic  liberty  in  the  Irish  House  of  Commons,  the  dear 
friend,  and  comrade  of  Edward  Fitzgerald.  After  the  failure 
of  his  trial  and  his  release  from  his  long  imprisonment,  he 
came  over  to  France  and   entered  its  service.     The  year 


MILES  B  YRNE.  2o 

after  the  decree  for  the  formation  of  an  Irish  Legion  he 
was  made  a  General  of  Division,  and  appointed  to  the  staff 
of  General  Augereau,  the  General-in-Chief  of  the  projected 
Irish  Expedition.  It  is  curious  to  note  that  when  the  Irish 
movement  of  1845-1848  began  Arthur  O'Connor  was  still 
alive,  and  that  he  too,  like  Miles  Byrne  sent  his  welcome 
words  of  cheer  and  courage  to  the  young  men  who  were 
striving,  after  a  generation  and  a  half,  with  a  new  courage 
and  a  new  hope,  to  accomplish  what  Arthur  O'Connor  and 
Miles  Byrne  and  their  peers  and  comrades  had  striven  un- 
availingly  to  do  in  the  dark  years  in  which  the  eighteenth 
century  ended  and  the  nineteenth  century  began. 

The  great  expedition  which  was  to  afford  the  exiled  rebels 
one  last  chance  of  striking  a  blow  for  Ireland  never  came  to 
anything.  Everything  else  that  could  be  done  to  secure 
•the  adhesion  and  the  affection  of  the  Irish  Legion  was  done. 
Napoleon  the  Emperor  was  no  less  eager  to  conciliate  his 
Gaelic  soldiers  than  Napoleon  the  Consul.  On  the  occa- 
sion of  his  coronation,  when  all  the  French  regiments  were 
being  presented  with  colors  and  an  eagle,  the  Irish  Legion 
was  not  forgotten.  They  got  their  colors,  bearing  on  one 
side  the  inscription,  "Napoleon  the  First,  Emperor  of  the 
French,  to  the  Irish  Legion,"  and  on  the  other  side  an  un- 
crowned harp  with  the  words,  "  The  Independence  of  Ire- 
land." They  got  their  imperial  bird,  too,  and  Miles  Byrne 
records  with  not  unnatural  pride  that  the  Irish  Legion  was 
the  only  foreign  corps  in  the  French  service  to  whom.  Napo- 
leon ever  entrusted  an  eagle. 

But  in  spite  of  eagles  and  colors  and  high  pay  the  Irish 
Legion  were  sorely  discontented  at  the  delay  of  the  long- 
promised  expedition.  One  officer  resigned  his  command 
in  despair  and  went  to  America.  Arthur  O'Connor  married 
the  beautiful  and  gifted  daughter  of  the  illustrious  and  un- 
fortunate Condorcet,  a  girl  young  enough  to  have  been  his 


26  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

daughter.  With  her  he  lived  in  his  pleasant  place  of  Big- 
non,  in  the  land  of  the  Loire  water,  waiting  and  waiting  in 
vain  for  the  hour  when  he  should  be  summoned  to  take  a 
part  in  the  great  expedition. 

He  retained  his  rank  as  a  general  of  division,  though 
without  a  command,  in  expectation  of  the  event. 

So  bitter,  indeed,  was  the  disappointment  of  the  members 
of  the  Legion  at  getting  no  chance  of  being  at  odds  with 
England,  that  on  one  occasion  the  Legion  nearly  lost  a 
number  of  its  officers  in  consequence.  It  was  in  1806, 
when  the  Legion  was  at  Quimper.  The  English  landed 
some  troops  at  Concarneau  during  the  night,  and  the 
French  commandant  marched  out  to  repel  them  with  a  de- 
tachm.ent  which  included  none  of  the  Irish  officers. 

The  next  day  Miles  Byrne  and  every  Irish  officer  in  con- 
sequence called  upon  the  commandant  and  deposited  their 
swords  with  him,  refusing  to  resume  them  until  they  had 
received  satisfaction.  The  infuriated  commandant  ordered 
the  impetuous  officers  into  arrest;  but  their  case  was 
promptly  put  before  the  Emperor,  who  immediately  ex- 
pressed the  highest  approval  of  their  conduct  and  ordered 
their  swords  to  be  at  once  returned  to  them. 

Miles  Byrne  had  plenty  of  fighting  to  do,  though  the 
great  expedition  never  came  to  pass.  He  carried  his  bright 
sword  through  the  long  Spanish  campaign — a  campaign  dur- 
ing which  the  brilliant  exploits  of  the  Irish  Legion  made 
Marshal  Junot  express  his  deep  regret  that  such  gallant 
soldiers  had  not  a  country  of  their  own  to  fight  for.  In 
Germany  and  the  Netherlands  Miles  Byrne  followed  the 
shining  banner  on  which  the  delusive  affability  of  imperial 
promises  had  inscribed  the  words,  "  Independence  of  Ire- 
land." Many  years  later  he  served  in  the  Greek  campaign, 
and  the  eyes  which  in  boyhood  had  rested  lovingly  upon 
the  Wexford  hills  and  woods  and  waters,  might  now  behold 


MILES  B  YKNE.  27 

the  olive  groves  and  the  majestic  mountains  and  the  haunted 
valleys  of  Hellas,  of  the  one  country  which  might  best  com- 
pare for  beauty  with  the  land  where  he  was  born.  To  that 
grave,  handsome  French  officer  the  war  shouts  of  the  wild 
Klephts  must  have  brought  back  strange  echoes  of  the  bal- 
lads of  Ninety-eight.  Their  fierce,  oddly-weaponed  multi- 
tudes must  have  kindled  in  his  heart  something  of  the  fire 
which  flamed  there  when  he  first  beheld  the  sunlight  gleam 
along  the  levelled  line  of  pikes.  To  him  the  cruelties  of 
the  Turk  can  scarcely  have  appeared  unparalleled;  for  he 
remembered  the  yeoman  and  the  officers  and  soldiers  of 
Lake  and  Cornwallis. 

He  retired  at  last,  full  of  years  and  honor,  to  pass  the 
remainder  of  his  life  in  Paris,  happy  in  the  companionship 
of  his  wife,  in  the  admiration  and  affection  of  the  society 
in  which  he  most  delighted — the  society  of  cultivated  men 
and  women,  in  frequent  intercourse  with  his  old  brothers  in 
arms.  To  the  end  his  love  for  Ireland  was  the  most  pas- 
sionate feeling  of  his  heart.  Even  at  the  last,  when  the 
wizard  fingers  of  eighty  long  and  stormy  years  had  trans- 
formed the  Wexford  lad  into  a  grizzled,  gaunt,  stately  old 
man,  his  pulses  would  always  beat  quicker,  and  his  keen 
gray  eyes  grow  brighter,  at  the  thought  of  Ireland's  injuries 
and  the  prospect  of  her  regeneration. 

His  epitaph,  after  recording  the  honors  he  had  earned  in 
the  service  of  France  and  his  Irish  birth,  pays  to  his  memory 
a  simple  and  touching  tribute,  none  the  less  impressive  be- 
cause it  was  penned  by  the  wife  to  whom  he  was  devoted, 
and  who  has  rendered  Ireland  so  great  a  service  by  the 
preservation  and  publication  of  her  husband's  memoirs, 
"  In  his  long  career  he  was  always  distinguished  by  the 
rectitude  and  the  loyalty  of  his  character,  and  by  the  nobil- 
ity of  his  sentiments.  Truly  attached  to  Ireland,  his  native 
land,  he   faithfully  served   his  adopted  country,  France." 


28  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

These  memoirs  are  one  of  the  most  important  contribu- 
tions that  have  ever  been  made  to  Irish  history — certainly 
the  most  important  that  has  been  given  to  the  period  em- 
bracing the  insurrections  that  preceded  and  succeeded  the 
destruction  of  the  Irish  Parhament.  It  is  only  from  the 
personal  record  of  the  actors  in  or  the  beholders  of  great 
political  events  that  posterity  is  enabled  to  form  any  real 
living  picture  of  the  history  of  a  period.  London  of  the 
age  of  Anne  lives  in  Swift's  journal  to  Stella;  Horace  Wal- 
pole,  with  all  his  whimsicalities  and  modish  follies,  is  worth 
more  than  half  the  grave  historians  of  the  later  Georges; 
Pliny,  the  letter-writer,  is  more  precious  than  Suetonius; 
and  Mme.  Junot  and  Mme.  de  Remusat  give  greater  vivid- 
ness to  the  life  of  Napoleon  than  Bourrienne  or  Lacretelle. 
No  history  that  has  yet  been  written  of  the  rebellion  of 
Ninety-eight  can  possess  quite  the  same  peculiar  interest 
that  belongs  to  the  memoirs  of  Miles  Byrne. 

Ireland  owes  Miles  Byrne  much,  for  he  loved  her  well 
and  served  her  with  all  his  heart  and  soul  in  1798  and 
1803.  But  not  the  least  part  of  her  debt  of  gratitude  is  for 
the  service  he  rendered  to  his  country  and  her  cause  by 
these  memoirs.  In  their  enchanted  pages  the  student  of 
Irish  history  seems  to  conquer  time  and  to  stand  in  the 
presence  of  the  resuscitated  dead.  The  mighty  shadows 
appear  to  throng  about  him  as  the  phantoms  of  his  former 
companions-in-arms  crowd  around  ^neas  in  the  Virgilian 
story.  As  he  reads  of  the  actions  and  of  the  heroes  of  the 
time  told  by  one  who  witnessed  those  actions  and  who  is 
himself  a  hero,  history  ceases  to  be  a  dim,  uncertain  record, 
a  d  becomes  instead  a  living,  moving  drama.  The  story 
of  the  Rebellion  of  Ninety-eight  by  one  who  played  a  brave 
part  in  the  Wexford  campaign,  the  story  of  the  Rebellion 
of  1803  by  one  who  was  a  sharer  in  the  plot  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end,  and  was  one  of  the  last  to  see  the  friend 


MILES  B  YRNE,  29 

whom  he  so  touchingly  calls  *'  dear  Robert  Emmet "  on  his 
fatal  return  from  the  mountains  after  the  failure  in  Thomas 
street — must  not  such  a  chronicle  naturally  and  rightfully 
take  its  place  amongst  the  most  precious  possessions  of 
Irish  national  literature  ? 


GEORGE  BERKELEY. 

In  the  year  1723  there  died  in  Ireland,  at  a  place  called 
Marley  Abbey,  some  ten  miles  from  Dublin,  one  of  the 
most  miserable  women  then  in  the  world.  Her  death  dis- 
closed the  denial  of  her  fortune  to  one  great  Irishman  with 
whom  she  had  been  on  terms  of  close  friendship,  to  whom 
she  had  offered  up  years  of  passionate  devotion,  and  its 
bestowal  upon  another  great  Irishman  with  whom  she  had 
never  so  much  as  exchanged  a  word.  On  that  fatal  after- 
noon when  Swift,  with  a  legion  of  wild  passions  tearing  at 
his  heart  strings,  rode  over  to  Marley  Abbey  to  fling  back 
at  Vanessa's  feet  the  letter  she  had  written  to  Stella,  Hester 
Vanhomrigh  received  her  death-blow.  But  she  lived  long 
enough  to  inflict  a  curious  little  piece  of  vengeance,  the 
only  vengeance  in  her  power,  except  the  lofty  vengeance 
of  forgiveness,  upon  the  false  Cadenus.  She  had  left  by 
will  all  the  property  she  possessed  to  the  man  she  had  so 
madly  worshipped.  With  the  hand  of  death  upon  her,  with 
the  raging  eyes  of  the  Dean  still  burning  upon  her  brain, 
she  performed  the  one  little  pitiful  act  of  retaliation  which 
is  the  saddest  spot  in  all  her  sad  story;  she  altered  her  will, 
and  disinherited  her  idol.  For  the  name  of  Jonathan  Swift, 
Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  she  substituted  the  name  of  another 
great  Irishman,  another  great  Churchman,  another  great 
thinker  and  teacher,  the  name  of  George  Berkeley,  Dean 
— only  nominally  so,  indeed, — of  Dromore. 

The  legacy,  this  strange  gift  of  chance  born  of  a  man's 
insult  and  a  woman's  sense  of  injury,  was  in  some  respects 
a  turning  point  in  the  life  of  the  amazed  legatee.  His 
amazement  is  very  frankly  and  simply  expressed  in  a  letter 


GEORGE  BERKELEY  31 

to  his  friend  and  patron,  Lord  Percival,  a  few  days  after 
the  unexpected  bequest.  "  Here  is  something  that  will 
surprise  your  lordship  as  it  does  me.  Mrs.  Hester  Vanhom- 
righ,  a  lady  to  whom  I  was  a  perfect  stranger,  having  never 
in  the  whole  course  of  my  life  exchanged  a  word  with  her, 
died  on  Sunday  night.  Yesterday  her  will  was  opened,  by 
which  it  appears  that  I  am  constituted  executor,  the  advan- 
tage whereof  is  computed  by  those  who  understand  her 
affairs  to  be  worth  ;^3,ooo;  if  a  suit  she  has  be  carried, 
it" will  be  considerably  more."  Berkeley's  first  idea  on  re- 
ceiving this  unexpected  windfall  was  to  employ  the  money 
thus  almost  miraculously  placed  at  his  disposal  in  carrying 
out  a  scheme  which  had  long  been  dear  to  his  heart.  This 
scheme  was  that  he  should  emigrate  to  Bermuda,  should 
settle  there  and  devote  the  rest  of  his  nfe  to  '*  the  reforma- 
tion of  manners  among  the  English  in  our  Western  plan- 
tations, and  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel  among  the 
American  savages."  Bermuda  was  to  Berkeley  what  the 
Happy  Isles  were  to  the  hopeful  eyes  of  the  visionary  Greek 
sailors.  He  was  nobly  convinced  of  the  nobility  of  his 
dream,  and,  which  was  more  remarkable,  he  succeeded  in 
awaking  a  latent  nobility  in  unexpected  places  and  in  arous- 
ing an  enthusiasm  by  his  dream  of  a  Bermudan  Utopia  in 
callous  hearts  and  unsympathetic  bosoms. 

Bermuda  became  the  mode  in  the  marvellous  medley  of 
London  society  over  which  the  first  of  the  Georges  reigned. 
People  talked  Bermuda,  thought  Bermuda,  wrote  Bermuda. 
The  wits  and  gallants  of  the  Scriblerus  Club,  who  had  met 
together  to  rally  Berkeley  on  his  poetic  and  apostolic  fancy, 
were  so  stirred  by  the  ardent  eloquence  of  the  missionary 
that,  fired  with  wine  and  the  warmer  intoxication  of  the 
charm  of  Berkeley's  words,  they  rose  with  one  accord  and 
shouted  lustily  encouragements  to  each  other  to  accompany 
the  Dean  of  Derry  on  his  crusade.     With  the  morning,  when 


32  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

the  sparkle  of  Lord  Bathurst's  champagne  had  faded  from 
their  jaded  brains,  we  may  assume  that  their  enthusiasm 
for  Bermuda  had  faded  too.  At  least  one  thing  is  certain, 
that  we  never  find  the  name  of  a  single  member  of  the  fel- 
lowship of  Scriblerus  on  the  passenger  list  of  that  ship  on 
which  Berkeley  did  trust  himself  and  his  hopes,  and  which 
sailed  with  him  into  the  West,  indeed,  though  not  to  the 
"  still-vexed  Bermuthes  "  of  his  dreams. 

Who  was  the  remarkable  man  whose  missionary  zeal  and 
eloquence  could  make  Bermuda  as  popular  in  London  with 
the  voice  of  religion  as  ever  the  voice  of  greed  had  made 
the  South  Sea  popular  in  Change  Alley,  or  the  turbid  floods 
of  the  Mississippi  appear  a  new  Pactolus  to  the  wranglers 
in  the  Rue  Quincampoix  ?  Who  was  the  man  who  touched 
for  a  moment  the  cynical  nature  of  Bolingbroke  with  some- 
thing of  the  fire  of  his  own  enthusiasm;  who  induced  Wal- 
pole  to  swell  from  his  own  pocket  the  subscription  list  that 
was  raised  to  further  Berkeley's  schemes;  who  actually 
succeeded  in  touching  the  callous  organism  which  the  Elector 
of  Hanover  and  King  of  England  called  a  heart,  and  whose 
one  joy  on  hearing  of  the  Vanessa  legacy  was  at  the  aid  it 
afforded  to  his  voyage,  and  his  pure  unselfish  aspirations. 

George  Berkeley  was  born  on  the  12th  of  March,  1685, 
by  the  Nore  water,  in  the  county  Kilkenny.  His  father 
was  an  Irishman  of  English  descent,  WilHam  Berkeley. 
The  founder  of  the  family  in  Ireland  had  come  to  the 
country  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Second  in  the  suite  of  the  first  Lord  Berkeley  of  Stratton. 
George  Berkeley  seems  to  have  been  distinguished  for  un- 
usual abilities  at  Kilkenny  School.  In  the  first  year  of  the 
eighteenth  century  he  went,  a  lad  of  fifteen,  to  Dublin  to 
Trinity  College.  In  Trinity  College  he  remained  for  thirteen 
years,  studying,  thinking,  dreaming,  bewildering  most  of 
the  collegians,  his  colleagues,  who  seem  to  have  been  un- 


GEORGE  BERKELEY,  33 

able  to  make  up  their  minds  whether  he  was  a  genius  or  a 
blockhead.  They  may  well  have  been  puzzled  by  a  youth 
who  allowed  himself  in  his  earnest  pursuit  of  truth  to  be 
half  and  something  more  than  half  hanged  by  a  fellow 
student,  that  he  might  learn  the  emotions  of  man  on  the 
point  of  a  violent  death.  Within  the  walls  of  Trinity  he 
worked,  gradually  and  laboriously  piecing  together  and 
thoughtfully  shaping  out  his  theory  of  the  metaphysical 
conception  of  the  material  world  about  him;  poring  over 
Locke  and  Plato,  breathing  an  atmosphere  satured  with 
Cartesianism,  his  active  mind  eagerly  investigating,  explor- 
ing, inquiring  in  all  directions,  and  his  hand  recording  day 
by  day  the  notes  and  stages  of  his  mental  development. 

His  early  philosophical  writings  rapidly  earned  him  a 
reputation  in  the  great  world  of  London,  to  which  at  thai 
time  the  eyes  of  all  men,  divines,  wits,  statesmen,  phil- 
osophers and  poets,  turned.  It  is  not  my  purpose  here  to 
dwell  upon  the  nature  of  those  philosophical  writings  or  to 
enter  into  any  study  of  the  great  theory  of  idealism  in  which 
he  affirmed  that  there  is  no  proof  of  the  existence  of  matter 
anywhere  save  in  our  own  perceptions.  Byron,  in  his  light- 
hearted  way,  more  than  two  generations  later,  dismissed 
Bishop  Berkeley  and  his  theory  in  the  famous  couplet — 

"  When  Bishop  Berkeley  said  there  is  no  matter, 
It  clearly  was  no  matter  what  he  said," 

— a  smart  saying  which  Byron  did  not  intend,  and  which 
nobody  would  be  likely  to  regard,  as  a  serious  summing  up 
of  the  mental  work  of  Berkeley. 

To  London  Berkeley's  eyes  naturally  turned,  and  to  Lon- 
don Berkeley  came  in  the  first  winter  month  of  1713.  The 
Dublin  he  quitted  and  the  London  he  came  to  were  vastly 
different  cities  from  the  Dublin  and  the  London  of  to-day. 
The  Irish  Parliament  stood,  indeed,  in  College  Green, 
2 


34  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

but  its  home  was  not  in  the  building  which  is  now  used  as 
the  Bank  of  Ireland,  but  in  Chichester  House,  the  building 
which  George  Carew  had  set  up  as  an  hospital  toward  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  which  adventurous  Arthur 
Chichester  made  his  dwelling-place  after  the  Ulster  planta- 
tion. The  change  of  Patrick's  Well  lane  to  Nassau  street 
was  as  recent  to  men  then  as  the  change  of  Sackville  street 
to  O'Connell  street  is  to  the  Dubliners  of  to-day.  Dawson 
street  was  the  newest  of  the  new  streets.  Molesworth 
street  was  not,  but  the  name  lived  in  a  great  piece  of  waste 
land  on  the  site  known  as  Molesworth  Fields. 

If  Dublin  was  small  then  compared  with  what  it  now  is, 
London  was  relatively  still  smaller.  When  the  young 
Berkeley  dined  with  his  brilliant,  loveable,  happy-go-lucky 
countryman,  Richard  Steele,  at  his  house  in  Bloomsbury 
Square,  all  that  is  now  London  to  the  North  of  Bloomsbury, 
a  network  of  narrow  streets,  a  gloomy  world  of  bricks  and 
mortar,  was  smiling  country.  St.  Pancras  was  in  the  coun- 
try, and  Tottenham  Court,  and  Marylebone,  and  Sadler's 
Wells,  places  all  of  them  now  black  with  the  daily  smoke  of 
a  thousand  chimneys,  and  encircled  with  a  wall  of  houses 
ten,  aye  twenty  times  thicker  than  the  Great  Wall  of  China. 
But  little  as  seems  to  us  that  London  of  the  Augustan 
days  of  Anne,  as  we  look  back  upon  it  through  the  lapse  of 
more  than  a  century  and. a  half,  it  seemed  a  mighty  big 
place  then  in  the  eyes  of  its  inhabitants,  and  a  mighty  big 
place  we  may  assume  that  it  seemed  in  the  eyes  of,  the 
young  Irish  scholar  and  gentleman  whose  reputation  had 
preceded  him  and  predisposed  the  society  of  the  day  to  take 
kindly  to  his  handsome  face,  and  listen  willingly  to  his 
golden  tongue.  Swift  was  a  great  patron  of  Berkeley's  in 
those  early  London  days.  The  greatest  genius  of  his  age, 
Swift  was  always  eager  to  recognize  the  genius  of  other 
men;  the  most  powerful  man  of  the  hour,  he  was  always 


GEORGE  BERKELEY.  35 

anxious  to  employ  his  power  in  doing  a  good  turn  to  some- 
body, in  lending  a  helping  hand  to  unappreciated  talent, 
or  giving  the  jog  of  his  generous  patronage  to  modest  ability 
in  danger  of  being  unrewarded  and  unnoticed  by  reason  of 
its  modesty.  Berkeley  did  not  stand  in  the  same  need  of 
help  as  many  who  found  Dr.  Swift  a  true  friend;  but  we 
may  well  imagine  his  services  were  as  welcome  as  his  com- 
panionship must  have  been  delightful.  Swift  took  Berkeley 
to  Court  and  introduced  him  or  spoke  of  him  to  all  the  great 
Ministers,  and  pushed  his  fortunes  by  all  the  ways — and 
they  were  many — in  his  power.  He  wrote  in  that  journal 
which  was  meant  only  for  the  sweet  eyes  of  Stella,  and  which 
has  since  become  the  priceless  property  of  mankind,  his 
high  admiration  for  the  young  philosopher,  and  kindly  adds, 
"  I  will  favor  him  as  much  as  I  can."  That  was  a  promise 
Swift  often  made,  mentally  or  to  Stella,  about  those  who 
were  in  need  of  help;  it  was  a  promise  he  always  fulfilled, 
and  he  kept  his  word  to  Berkeley,  not  merely  in  the  letter, 
but  in  the  spirit.  Berkeley,  with  the  aid  of  Swift,  was  soon 
made  free  of  the  wonderful  republic  of  letters  which  then 
held  sway  in  London,  and  which  numbered  amongst  its 
members  such  men  as  Steele  and  Addison,  Bolingbroke  and 
Harley,  Gay  and  Arbuthnot  and  Pope.  Berkeley  was  in 
Addison's  box  at  the  first  performance  of  Cato,  and  tasted 
of  the  author's  champagne  and  Burgundy  therein,  and  list- 
ened with  curious  delight  to  the  mingled  applause  and 
hisses  that  greeted  Mr.  Pope^s  prologue.  He  made 
Arbuthnot  a  convert  to  his  Three  Dialogues  over  a  pleasant 
dinner  at  his  lodgings  in  the  palace  at  Kensington,  which 
still  to-day  preserves  to  a  swollen  city  some  picture  of  the 
simpler  peace  of  days  before  the  Elector  of  Hanover  ever 
set  foot  in  London,  It  was  a  dazzling,  intoxicating  society 
of  poets  and  statesmen,  philosophers  and  wits,  for  a  young 
man  to  freely  mingle  in;  but  at  its    best  and  brightest, 


36  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

Berkeley  could  only  find  himself  in  the  companionship  of 
his  peers;  his  superior  would  have  been,  indeed,  hard  to 
discover,  either  there  or  elsewhere. 

A  little  later  Berkeley  w^ent  to  Italy  as  the  traveling  tutor, 
the  bear  leader,  of  the  son  of  Ashe,  Bishop  of  Clogher.  In 
Italy  he  passed  some  four  enchanted  years,  reviving  the 
ancient  world  among  the  ruins  of  Rome,  reconstructing  the 
lost  Parthenope  by  the  blue  waters  of  the  Tyrrhene  sea, 
and  repeopling  the  crags  and  rocks  of  Sicily  with  the  brown- 
limbed  boys  and  violet-crowned  girls  who  tend  their  herds 
and  pipe  away  their  peaceful  lives  forever  in  the  honeyed 
Greek  of  Theocritus.  Berkeley  came  back  to  England  in 
1720  to  find  all  England  writhing  in  the  welter  and  chaos 
of  the  South  Sea  crash.  The  shame  and  misery  of  the  time 
appears  to  have  inspired  him  with  a  kind  of  horror  of  the 
hollow  civilization  of  the  age,  and  to  have  given  him  his  first 
promptings  towards  that  ideal  community  in  the  remote 
Atlantic  to  which  his  mind  turned  so  strongly  a  little  later. 
He  left  England  speedily  and  came  home  again  to  Ireland 
after  an  absence  of  eight  years.  It  was  in  Ireland  that  the 
Vanessa  windfall  came  to  him  and  amazed  him,  and  en- 
couraged him  in  his  Bermuda  vision.  Bermuda  ever  re- 
mained a  vision  for  him;  but  in  1728  he  set  sail  for  Rhode 
Island  in  the  company  of  his  young  wife.  Miss  Anne  For- 
ster,  whom  as  he  quaintly  tells  us  he  choose  "  for  her  quali- 
ties of  mind  and  her  unaffected  inclination  to  books."  For 
more  than  three  years  he  dwelt  in  America  a  simple,  happy, 
earnest  life.  But  the  mission  was  a  failure.  To  Robert 
Walpole,  Berkeley's  plans  and  hopes  would  naturally  seem 
about  as  deserving  of  the  attention  and  aid  of  practical 
men  as  the  ambitions  of  Don  Quixote.  The  grant  promised 
by  the  Government  was  never  sent  out,  and  in  1731  Berkeley 
came  back  to  England.  How  many,  I  wonder,  of  those 
who  are  familiar  with  the  line,  "Westward  the  course  of 


GEORGE  BERKELEY.  37 

empire  takes  its  way,"  which  has  been  taken  as  the  motto 
for  one  of  the  best  and  best-known  frescoes  that  adorn  the 
Capitol  in  Washington,  know  that  it  comes  from  the  last 
verse  of  a  poem  which  Berkeley  wrote  as  he  was  striving  to 
realize  a  new  Atlantic  in  Rhode  Island: 

"  Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way; 
The  first  four  acts  already  past, 
A  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day; 
Time's  noblest  offspring  is  the  last." 

Two  years  of  literary  and  philosophic  life  in  London 
succeed  to  the  Rhode  Island  idyll.  In  1734  he  returned  to 
Ireland  for  the  last  time,  and  dwelt  for  eighteen  years  in 
his  Bishopric  of  Cloyne  in  studious  seclusion  with  his  family, 
wandering  among  the  myrtle  hedges  his  own  hand  planted, 
reading  Plato  and  Hooker,  teaching  his  cherished  daughter, 
suffering  from  domestic  losses,  and  proclaiming  to  an 
astounded  world  that  tar-water  was  a  panacea  for  all  human 
ills  with  all  the  fervor  which  Dr.  Sangrado  devoted  to  the 
merits  of  water  without  the  tar.  Berkeley's  genius  and 
eloquent  prose  made  tar-water  as  popular  as  both  had  made 
Bermuda  some  twenty  years  earlier.  The  later  years  of  his 
life  at  Cloyne  are  tinged  with  melancholy.  His  mind  began 
to  be  agitated  again  with  the  dream  of  an  academic  retreat 
by  other  though  no  lovelier  streams  than  the  Blackwater  and 
the  Lee,  and  in  1752  he  journeyed  again  to  England  and 
set  up  his  tent  for  the  last  time  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
Oxford  spires.  It  was  mellow  autumn  when  he  came  to  the 
City  of  Scholars.  In  the  chill  January  weather  of  the  fol- 
lowing year  he  died  quite  suddenly  and  quite  peacefully 
in  the  midst  of  his  family.  He  was  a  great  and  a  good 
man.  The  serene  purity  of  his  life,  his  lofty  purposes, 
his  nobility  of  nature,  cause  him  to  stand  out  very  conspic- 
uously in  the  strange,  cynical,  cruel  world  of  English  life 


38  HOURS   WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

and  English  thought  during  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  He  was  in  that  world,  but  he  was  never  of  it. 
His  friends  were  either  noble  of  life  and  mind  or  else  he 
saw  in  them  only  their  nobler  qualities,  and  took  no  thought 
of  or  no  harm  from  the  rest.  He  seems  to  have  been  most 
happy — and  the  fact  is  characteristic  of  the  man — in  the 
society  of  the  sweet,  simple  and  studious  women  who  made 
him  a  loving  wife,  and  of  the  children  whom  he  loved  with 
an  affection  for  the  excess  of  which  he  sometimes  reproached 
himself.  "All  his  contemporaries,"  says  Sir  James  Mack- 
intosh, "agreed  with  the  satirist  (Pope)  in  ascribing  'to 
Berkeley  every  virtue  under  heaven.'  Adverse  factions 
and  hostile  wits  concurred  only  in  loving,  admiring  and 
contributing  to  advance  him."  We  may  say  of  him  as  of  the 
Roman  Brutus,  that  his  life,  indeed,  was  gentle.  He  is  an 
abiding  example  of  the  genius  and  some  of  the  highest  vir- 
tues of  the  Irish  race. 


GERALD  GRIFFIN. 

Lord  Beaconsfield,  in  orxC  of  his  novels — '*  Coningsby," 
or  I  do  forget  myself — dwells  with  graceful  melancholy  which 
he  could  readily  assume,  and  which  at  all  times  became 
him,  upon  the  number  of  rarely-gifted  beings  who  died 
in  or  about  their  thirty-seventh  year.  The  "fatal  thirty- 
seven"  he  calls  it;  and  he  enumerates  a  long  list  of  bright 
abilities  who  were  its  victims.  Raphael,  Byron,  Mozart, 
Mendelssohn,  these  and  many  others  whose  spirits  were  un- 
timely quenched  he  mentions,  paying  to  each  his  due  meed 
of  mourning.  One  name  will  be  at  once  missed  by  all  Irish- 
men from  the  list,  the  name  of  Gerald  Griffin. 

It  may  well  be  maintained  that  in  all  the  brilliant  brother- 
hood of  youth  recorded  by  the  English  novelists,  Gerald 
Griffin  would  have  found  only  his  peers.  In  none  did  the 
fire  of  genius  burn  more  fervently,  to  none  was  fortune 
kinder  or  more  cruel,  by  none  was  the  too  early  death 
faced  under  conditions  of  loftier  dignity  or  serener  virtue. 

The  story  of  Gerald  Griffin's  life  is  exceedingly  simple 
and  straightforward.  He  was  born  in  Limerick,  and  his 
boyhood  was  passed  within  the  sight  and  sound  of  the  lordly 
river  which  races  at  its  swiftest  there  between  its  crowded 
banks.  In  very  early  youth  he  showed  not  merely  those 
passionate  aspirations  for  literary  distinction  which  are  in- 
evitable to  all  finely-tempered  boyhood,  but  abilities  of  the 
rarest  kind  for  gratifying  those  aspirations  and  gaining  the 
coveted  laurels.  His  keenest  desire  appears  to  have  been 
for  dramatic  fame;  he  longed  to  see  the  creations  of  his 
brain  taking  their  place  wifeh  Cato  and  Anthony,  and  the 


40  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

hero  of  "Venice  preserved;"  and  while  still  in  the  very 
dawn  of  manhood  he  crossed  the  Irish  Sea  with  a  manuscript 
play  in  his  pocket  wherewith  to  conquer  London  and  win 
immortal  fame.  The  lonely  young  Irishman  fought  the 
old  fight  in  the  great  city,  with  poverty,  with  indifference, 
with  the  chilling  influences  of  apathy  and  disdain.  The 
old,  old  story  of  genius  and  the  giant,  of  the  war  that  is  as 
ancient  as  the  mountains,  and  that  will  outlast  the  cataract. 
Griffin,  with  his  heart  on  fire,  flung  himself  against  London. 
His  was  not  the  patient  merit  which  takes  the  spurns  of  the 
unworthy  humbly.  The  consciousness  of  his  great  gifts 
informed  and  inspired  him,  and  he  battled  strenuously, 
desperately,  w^ith  evil  fortune.  London,  swollen  with  some- 
thing of  the  oldAthenian  pride  and  of  the  exclusiveness  of 
mediaeval  Florence,  regards  all  those  who  come  to  it  from 
outside,  be  they  Saxon  or  Gael,  r.s  "barbarians"  and 
"  strangers."  It  has  to  be  wooed  and  won,  like  the 
Amazon  Brunhilda  of  the  German  epic,  by  force  of  arms; 
the  wooing  is  desperate,  the  winning  difficult  in  the  ex- 
treme. Gerald  Griffin  wooed  London  bravely,  but  he  did  not 
win.  For  three  years  he  struggled  and  suffered,  painting 
his  proud  ambitious  nature  with  failure.  Then  he  came  back 
to  Ireland  to  find  there  the  fame  whose  phantom  he  had 
pursued  in  vain  in  the  foreign  city.  He  wrote  much  mar- 
vellous prose-fiction,  he  wrote  one  masterpiece  which  must 
endure  as  long  as  literature  lasts.  Suddenly  in  the  warmth 
of  his  youth,  on  the  threshold  of  his  fame,  his  whole  soul 
became  imbued  with  a  profound  sense  of  the  vanity  of  all 
worldly  triumphs  and  the  insignificance  of  all  earthly  ambi- 
tions. He  joined  the  Christian  Brothers,  and  died  in  the 
ranks  of  that  order.  xVfter  his  death  his  play  Gisippus^ 
which  he  had  carefully  preserved  at  a  time  when  he  de- 
stroyed all  his  other  papers,  was  acted  in  London,  and  was 
successful  at  a  time  when  success  was  valueless  for  its  author. 


GERALD  GRIFFIN.  41 

Gisippus  has  not  held  the  stage,  but  it  is  dear  to  all  lovers 
of  lofty  dramatic  literature. 

"  The  Collegians  "  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable,  as  it 
is  one  of  the  most  delightful  additions  that  have  ever  been 
made  to  Irish  fiction.  Some  little  time  ago  Mr.  Ruskin, 
in  a  letter  which  expressed  a  sympathy  and  even  an  enthu- 
siasm for  Ireland  not  often  manifested  by  English  writers, 
declared  that  for  the  proper  appreciation  of  the  Irish  Nation 
and  the  Irish  character  a  serious  study  of  Miss  Edgeworth's 
fiction  was  absolutely  essential.  To  my  mind,  without  in 
any  way  desiring  to  underrate  Miss  Edgeworth's  genius, 
Gerald  Grifiin's  "  Collegians  "  is  the  work  in  Irish  prose  fic- 
tion to  which  the  foreign  student  of  our  country  might  be 
most  advisedly  referred.  Englishmen  have  for  too  long 
drawn  their  ideas  about  Ireland  from  the  pages  of  Lever's 
novels,  have  too  long  deluded  themselves  into  the  belief 
that  that  grotesque  carnival  of  riotous  dragoons,  of  comic 
peasants,  of  Castle  hacks,  and  practical  jokers  from  Trinity 
makes  up  the  sum  and  substance  of  Irish  life  and  Irish 
character.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  "Arabian  Nights,"  in 
spite  of  their  wizards  and  witches,  their  incantations  and 
enchantments,  their  roc's  eggs  and  magic  lamps,  present  a 
far  more  faithful  picture  of  the  Egypt  of  to-day  than  Lever's 
novels  do  of  the  Ireland  of  his  time  or  of  any  time.  They 
are  fairy-tales,  pure  and  simple,  full  of  wild  animal  spirits, 
of  rough,  good-natured  horse-play,  of  love  and  battle  and 
adventure.  They  are  excellent  as  studies  of  Irish  and 
English  life  in  foreign  Continental  cities;  they  are  amusing, 
entertaining,  very  good  company,  indeed,  but  they  no  more 
present  a  faithful  picture  of  Ireland  than  the  Bardic  accounts 
of  the  dwellings  of  the  Feni  resem.ble  the  London  Dublin 
of  to-day.  Lady  Morgan  with  all  her  faults  understood  some 
phases  of  Irish  life  and  of  Irish  nationalism  better  than 
Lever.     Her  "  O'Briens  and  O'Flahertvs  "   has  fallen  into 


42  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

curious  obscurity  of  late;  it  deserved,  and  still  deserves,  a 
better  fate  for  the  sake  of  its  one  study  of  tlie  rebellious 
chieftain  of  an  ancient  Irish  house,  the  last  of  his  line,  and 
for  its  skillful  and  cruelly  sarcastic  study  of  the  blended 
corruption  and  frivolity  of  Castle  society.  But  "  The 
Collegians"  is  far  and  away  the  best  of  all.  Ireland,  un- 
fortunately, has  not  yet  found  her  Walter  Scott,  but  if 
Gerald  Griffin  had  cared  or  chosen  to  write  more,  if  he  had 
given  Ireland  and  the  world  a  series  of  novels  which  should 
have  borne  the  same  relationship  to  "  The  Collegians  "  that 
the  Waverley  novels  do  to  the  first  of  their  race,  Gerald 
Griffin  would  undoubtedly  have  made  himself  the  Walter 
Scott  of  Ireland,  From  one  cause  or  another,  ""  The  Col- 
legians "  has  never  won  the  success  it  deserved.  Even  in 
Ireland  it  is  not  read  as  much  as  it  should  be,  and  outside 
Ireland  it  is  practically  unknown.  Yet  curiously  enough, 
there  is  not  a  character  in  the  book  whose  name  is  not  per- 
fectly familiar  wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken. 
Danny  Mann,  Hardress  Cregan,  Eily  O'Connor,  Anne  Chute, 
Kyrle  Daly,  have  all  been  made  everyday  acquaintances  to 
the  theatre-goer  everywhere,  through  Dion  Boucicault's 
"  Colleen  Bawn,"-  and  through  the  opera  taken  from  it  and 
called  "The  Lily  of  Killarney."  But,  for  the  thousands 
and  tens  of  thousands  to  whom  the  music  of  the  opera  and 
the  incidents  of  the  m.elodrama  are  familiar,  how  many 
hundreds  have  gone  to  the  original  of  the  one  and  of  the 
other  and  have  studied  for  its  own  sake  "  The  Collegians  " 
itself?  To  the  Englishman  who  desires  to  have  a  faithful 
picture  of  what  Ireland  was  like  at  the  time  in  which  *'  The 
Collegians  "  is  laid,  to  the  Irishman  who  wishes  to  appreciate 
what  must  be  called  the  greatest  triumph  of  Irish  prose- 
fiction,  "  The  Collegians  "  will  not  be  merely  a  pleasure,  it 
will  be  an  essential  of  education. 

It  is  a  curious  and  ironic  fact  that  Gerald  Griffin's  name 


GERALD  GRIFFIN.  43 

should  be  best  remembered  in  most  English-speaking  coun- 
tries through  that  very  dramatic  art  in  which  he  feverishly- 
thirsted  for  success.  But  it  is  not  by  Gisippus^  the  heart's 
love  of  his  youth,  that  his  memory  is  kept  green.  It  is  by 
the  adaptation  of  his  great  novel  made  by  other  hands  long 
after  Gerald  Griffin  was  laid  in  his  quiet  grave  that  the 
dramatic  triumph  came,  and  the  laurels  that  were  to  have 
crowned  Gisippiis  have  been  awarded  with  full  hands  to  the 
"Colleen  Bawn." 

Gerald  Griffin  is  not  merely  one  of  the  most  masterly  of 
Irish  prose  writers;  he  is  further  entitled  to  a  place,  and  a 
proud  one,  among  the  poets  of  Ireland.  If  he  had  chosen 
to  devote  himself  to  verse  writing  alone,  or  had  even  dedi- 
cated his  talents  chiefly  to  verse  writing,  he  might  have 
easily  taken  rank  with  the  foremost  of  his  country's  poets, 
with  Moore,  Davis  and  Clarence  Mangan.  As  it  is,  the 
mere  handful  of  perfect  verses  which  he  has  bequeathed  to 
us  entitle  him,  by  their  flawless  beauty  of  thought  and  form, 
to  a  place  only  second  to  that  of  the  three  stars  in  the  Orion 
belt  of  Irish  song.  The  verses  he  did  write  are  compara- 
tively few  in  number.  The  whole  of  them  might  be  in- 
cluded in  such  an  anthology,  such  a  flower  harvest  and 
blossom  garland  as  Meleager  and  his  rivals  gathered  in  an- 
cient days  from  the  violets,  and  anemones,  and  narcissus 
blooms  of  the  Hellenic  Parnassus.  Scholars  pore  in  rapt 
admiration  over  the  epigrams  of  Rufinus  or  Agathias,  as 
minute  and  as  finely  wrought  as  Greek  gems — pore  over 
them  and  sigh  to  think  that  so  little  of  such  honeyed  sweet- 
ness has  been  spared  to  us  by  cormorant,  devouring  time. 
Yet,  well  nigh  as  much  is  preserved  of  Rufinus  as  would 
outweigh  in  bulk  the  poems  of  Gerald  Griffin,  and  the  most 
impassioned  admirer  of  the  Grecian  lyrist  must  recognize 
that  for  delicate  perfection  of  workmanship  he  has  found  at 
last  his  peer  in  the  sweet  and   melancholy  singer  whose 


44  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

Ilissus  was  the  Shannon  and  whose  Athens  was  the  City  of 
the  Violated  Treaty. 

The  verses  that  star  the  sombre  pages  of  "The  Colle- 
gians," lighting  up  its  tragic  beauty  with  their  serene,  fixed 
lustre,  are,  perhaps,  the  very  highest  proofs  of  his  literary 
genius.  Where  is  there  to  be  found  in  the  literature  of  the 
English-speaking  races  a  lovelier  lyric  than  that  which 
Hardress  Cregan  wrote  for  Anne  Chute,  and  which  begins — 

"  A  place  in  thy  memory,  dearest, 
Is  all  that  I  claim. 
To  pause  and  look  back  when  thou  hearest 
The  sound  of  my  name." 

Lofty  passion,  and  pathos,  and  brave  resignation  were 
never  expressed  in  more  melodious  numbers.  The  pangs 
of  despised  love  have  been  the  fruitful  theme  of  poets  ever 
since  man  first  discovered  the  magic  of  rythmic  measures. 
Mimnermus  sighing  for  Nanno  in  plaintive  Ionian  by  the 
blue  waters  of  Smyrna  Bay,  the  Persian  telling  the  cypress 
groves  and  sparkling  waters  of  the  Sharazi  maiden  whose 
night-black  tresses  he  may  not  hope  to  touch,  Ronsard 
rhyming  innumerable  sonnets  to  innumerable  lady-loves, 
Petrarch  building  for  Laura  a  monument  more  enduring 
than  brass,  never  surpassed  the  simple  beauty  of  form, 
never  approached  the  lofty  dignity  of  purpose  which  belong 
to  the  lines  of  the  pure-minded  and  melancholy  genius  of 
the  Irish  singer. 


SARSFIELD. 

In  Limerick  city  there  stands  a  statue  of  one  of  the  great- 
est of  Irish  patriots  and  one  of  the  most  gallant  of  Irish 
soldiers.  There  are  not  a  great  many  statues  in  Irish  towns 
of  the  heroes  and  the  martyrs  of  her  cause.  The  country 
has  been  too  oppressed,  and  too  busy  battling  with  oppres- 
sion, and  too  poor,  to  be  able  to  adorn  her  public  places  with 
many  monuments  to  the  illustrious  dead.  Perhaps  for  this 
very  reason  such  statues  as  have  been  put  up  possess  an 
added  interest  and  impress  the  spectator  with  a  profounder 
significance.  No  Nationalist  Irishman  can  ever  pass  with- 
out a  thrill  of  deep  emotion  that  effigy  of  William  Smith 
O'Brien  which  stands  in  one  of  the  busiest  centres  of  Dublin 
life.  Little  more  than  a  generation  ago  the  man  whom  that 
carved  stone  commemorates,  was  sentenced  by  the  hideous 
formality  in  which  the  law  then  expressed  itself  to  be 
hanged,  drawn  and  quartered  for  the  offence  of  treason 
against  the  British  Crown — in  other  words,  for  loving  his 
country  well.  It  is  a  curious  proof  of  the  greatness  of  the 
Young  Ireland  movement,  and  of  the  gratitude  which  Ire- 
land left  to  the  brave,  gentle  man  who  led  that  movement, 
that  the  statue  of  Smith  O'Brien,  a  convicted  and  condemned 
rebel,  is  to-day  one  of  the  proudest  ornaments  of  the  city 
which  servility  has  christened  with  the  epithet  of  Viceregal. 

But  the  statue  of  which  I  was  thinking  when  I  wrote  the 
opening  lines  of  this  paper  was  not  the  statue  of  a  Young 
Irelander,  not  at  least  of  a  Young  Irelander  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  It  is  the  statue  of  Patrick  Sarsfield,  Earl 
of  Lucan,  and  never  was  statue  more  appropriately  situated 


46  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

than  that  of  the  heroic  soldier  within  the  compass  of  the 
city  of  the  Violated  Treaty.  All  that  a  man  could  do  to 
secure  the  rights  of  his  country,  and  the  civil  and  religious 
liberties  of  his  countrymen,  was  done  by  Sarsfield.  His 
conduct  of  the  immortal  defence  has  been  told  a  thousand 
times,  but  every  fresh  repetition  of  the  familiar  tale  only 
serves  to  confer  an  added  lustre  to  the  genius  and  the  cour- 
age of  Sarsfield,  and  to  add  a  darker  stain  to  the  treachery 
of  those  in  whom  Sarsfield,  with  the  generous  simplicity  of 
a  soldier  and  a  gentleman,  had  been  induced  to  place  a 
mistaken  confidence. 

The  seige  of  Limerick  is  one  of  the  most  famous  events 
in  history.  Seldom  have  the  fortunes  of  two  countries  and 
of  two  kingly  causes  depended  more  definitely  upon  the 
result  of  one  single  episode  in  a  great  campaign.  The  fight 
by  the  Boyne  water,  the  capture  of  Athlone,  the  rout  of 
Aughrim,  all  these  defeats  and  disasters  might  yet  have 
been  repaired  if  only  the  seige  of  Limerick  had  ended  other- 
wise, or,  ending  as  it  did,  had  been  followed  by  faith  from 
the  faithless.  The  cause  of  King  James  looked  gloomy 
enough,  but  the  cause  of  Ireland  was  hopeful.  The  Stuart 
prince  had  promised  much,  had  performed  somewhat. 
Poyning's  act  had  been  repealed.  A  measure  had  been 
passed  restoring  the  dispossessed  Irish  to  their  property. 
But  the  King  lost  heart  and  head  in  the  hour  of  adversity, 
and  abandoning  the  Irish  and  the  French,  who  had  served 
him  so  well,  he  fled  with  more  than  royal  rapidity  to  France, 
and  left  the  last  act  of  the  great  drama  to  be  played  out 
without  him  by  the  Shannon  River  and  behind  the  walls  of 
Limerick.  The  Stuart  princes,  with  all  their  faults,  were 
not  wanting  in  personal  courage,  although  actual  heroism 
was  not  included  among  their  virtues  then  or  thereafter. 
But  James  lives  in  the  Irish  ballad  literature,  which  has 
preserved  so  well  and  so  truly  the  salient  features  of  her 


FA  TRICK  SARSFIELD.  47 

Story  at  a  time  when  any  other  kind  of  chronicling  was  well 
nigh  impossible,  as  "  Craven  Shemus,"  and  under  the  bur- 
den of  yet  more  uncomplimentary  epithets. 

But  James  had  fled  and  St.  Ruth  was  dead,  and  the  last 
hopes  of  Ireland  were  hidden  behind  the  walls  of  Limerick, 
where  Talbot  of  Tyrconnell  and  Patrick  Sarsfield  were  mak- 
ing the  last  stand.  The  two  men  were  widely  different. 
Richard  Talbot,  Earl  of  Tyrconnell^  witnessed  as  a  boy  the 
Cromwellian  massacres  in  Drogheda.  The  memory  of  those 
horrors  never  left  him,  we  are  told.  We  may  easily  imagine 
that  the  light-hearted  Irish  nobleman,  who  plays  so  con- 
siderable apart  in  the  De  Grammont  "Memoirs"  of  the 
Court  of  the  second  Charles,  could  not  easily  banish  from 
his  memory  the  fearful  political  baptism  of  his  boyhood. 
Even  in  merriest  and  maddest  hours,  at  Whitehall,  while 
conversing  with  the  "  languishing  Boynton,"  whom  he  after- 
wards wedded,  or  jesting  with  Killegrew  and  Hamilton  and 
Buckingham,  or  losing  money  to  his  Merry  Majesty,  we 
can  readily  believe  that  often  and  often  thoughts  came 
across  his  brain  which  turned  the  lustre  of  the  flambeaux  to 
the  glare  of  burning  houses,  the  chatter  of  the  courtiers  to 
the  cries  of  Cromwell's  Ironsides,  the  soft  speech  of  Lely's 
painted  beauties  to  the  groans  of  murdered  women,  and  the 
shining  Thames  beyond  to  the  Boyne,  rushing  fearful  of  its 
bloody  foam  to  the  sea.  Talbot,  of  Tyrconnell,  had  always 
been  faithful  to  the  Stuart  cause.  He  had  followed  the 
young  prince  of  the  house  to  exile  over  seas;  the  histori- 
cal "  twenty-ninth  of  May,"  when  "  the  king  did  enjoy  his 
own  again,"  was  a  glorious  day  in  his  eyes,  as  in  the  eyes 
of  hundreds  of  other  cavalier  gentlemen.  Under  the  re- 
stored Stuarts  he  had  been  appointed  to  the  Governorship 
of  Ireland,  the  first  Roman  Catholic  who  had  held  the  post 
since  the  introduction  of  the  Protestant  faith  into  the  coun- 
try.    His  rule  was  characterized  by  his  strenuous  efforts  to 


48  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

undo  the  anti-Catholic  legislation  of  the  Ormond  Administra- 
tion. As  I  have  said  elsewhere,  the  fact  that  he,  a  Catholic 
and  an  Irishman,  should  wish  to  see  justice  and  religious 
liberty  allowed  to  his  countrymen  and  the  companions  of 
his  faith,  has  made  his  name  too  often  the  obloquy  and  the 
scorn  of  historians  who  are  unwilling  to  see  liberty,  either 
political  or  religious,  enjoyed  by  any  but  themselves  and 
their  own  people  or  party. 

When  the  war  between  James  and  William  broke  out,  the 
Stuart  king  found  his  fastest  and  best  ally  in  the  Duke 
of  Tyrconnell.  Talbot  had  been  the  Duke  of  York's  closest 
friend  and  confident;  he  was  now,  in  the  hour  of  stress,  for 
a  time  the  prop  of  his  hopes  and  the  buttress  of  his  tottering 
throne.  The  Catholics  in  Ireland  fought  for  the  Stuart 
monarch  less  for  that  monarch's  sake  than  for  love  of  Tal- 
bot, of  Tyrconnell,  and  the  name  he  bore.  But  victory 
went  with  William,  and  so  in  the  course  of  time  Talbot,  of 
Tyrconnell,  found  himself  shut  up  in  Limerick  to  make  the 
last  stand  for  a  lost  cause,  with  only  one  man  to  help  him 
in  the  inevitable  hour.  But  that  one  man  was  worth  a  hun- 
dred, for  his  name  was  Sarsfield. 

Sarsfield's  courage  and  daring,  his  military  genius,  his 
ready  enterprise  and  unfailing  resource  had  kept  the  flag 
of  Limerick  flying  in  the  face  of  disaster  after  disaster.  His 
famous  midnight  raid,  which  resulted  in  the  destruction  of 
the  Williamite  siege  train,  is  one  of  the  most  gallant  as  it 
is  one  of  the  most  desperate  deeds  recorded  in  history. 
Perhaps,  however,  the  qualities  which  most  especially  de- 
serve our  admiration  in  Sarsfield  are  the  patient  dignity  and 
soldierly  composure  with  which  he  consented  again  "and 
again  to  take  a  secondary  place  to  men  of  abilities  and 
capacities  infinitely  below  his  own.  The  young  Duke  of 
Berwick,  indeed,  might  complain  that  Sarsfield's  imperial 
tongue,  like   that  of  Shakespeare's  Suffolk,  was  sometimes 


FA  TRICK  SARSFIELD.  49 

"rough  and  stern,  used  to  command,  untaught  to  plead 
for  favor,"  but  the  marvel  rather  is  that  a  man  of  the 
military  genius  of  Sarsfield  should  have  played  so  long  and 
so  patiently  a  secondary  part  to  commanders  so  much  his 
inferiors  ? — and  a  man  might  be  a  very  able  soldier,  indeed, 
and  yet  remain  inferior  to  Patrick  Sarsfield — with  no  further 
display  of  impatience  than  an  occasional  rough  word  to  a 
royal  or  semi-royal  duke.  But  a  little  while  and  Sarsfield 
was  practically  alone  in  Limerick.  Tyrconnell,  whose  body 
had  long  been  wasted  by  disease,  died  suddenly  of  apoplexy. 
Death  behind  the  walls  of  Limerick  was  a  not  unfitting  close 
to  a  career  that  had  practically  begun  behind  the  walls  of 
Drogheda.  Between  those  two  fatal  sieges  how  much  that 
strange,  brilliant,  fitful  life  had  experienced.  Exile  in 
Flanders,  faithful  adherence  to  what  seemed  a  ruined  cause, 
triumphant  return,  flight  from  Popish  plot,  phantasm,  and 
Titus  Gates'  accusations,  the  glitter  and  riot  of  an  evil 
court,  rule  in  Ireland,  once  again  a  struggle  for  the  Stuart 
cause,  this  time  going  out  for  ever,  and  then  the  end.  A 
month  and  a  half  after  Tyrconnell' s  death,  the  treaty  was 
signed,  the  city  was  surrendered,  and  Sarsfield  marched  out 
with  all  the  honors  of  war. 

All  the  world  knows  the  eventful  scene  which  followed. 
The  standards  of  England  and  France,  set  up  outside  the 
city,  wooed  the  Irish  soldiers  with  a  choice  of  foreign  service. 
Out  of  15,000  men  only  1,000  turned  to  the  banner  of  the 
Boyne.  ■  The  great  bulk  of  the  Irish  army,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  who  chose  neither  service  and  sought  their 
homes,  rallied  beneath  the  lilies  of  France.  The  Dutch 
General,  Ginkle,  who  had  been  most  eager  to  swell  the 
ranks  of  William  with  the  heroic  defenders  of  Limerick, 
was  bitterly  disappointed  at  the  failure  of  his  hopes.  He 
endeavored  in  vain  to  induce  Sarsfield  to  remain  in  Ireland. 
Promises  of  all  kinds  were  plentifully  proffered,  but  Sars- 


50  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

field  was  not  to  be  tempted.  He  crossed  the  sea  and  laid 
his  bright  sword  at  the  feet  of  King  Louis.  The  French 
monarch,  who  thoroughly  appreciated  the  value  of  his  Irish 
adherents,  welcomed  the  hero  of  Limerick,  and  immediately 
appointed  him  to  the  command  of  the  second  troop  of  the 
Irish  Guards,  the  first  troop  being  under  the  command  of 
the  impetuous  young  Duke  of  Berwick. 

The  rest  of  Sarsfield's  record  may  be  thus  briefly  sum- 
marized from  O'Callaghan.  On  the  defeat  at  Steenkirk  in 
July,  1692,  of  the  allies  under  William  III.  by  the  French 
under  the  Marshal  De  Luxembourg,  the  marshal  compli- 
mented Lord  Lucan,  as  having  acted  at  the  engagement  in 
a  manner  worthy  of  his  previous  military  reputation  in 
Ireland.  The  marshal  wrote  to  Louis  XIV.  of  the  Duke 
of  Berwick's  bravery  and  added — "  The  Earl  of  Lucan  was 
with  him;  in  whom  we  have  particularly  noticed  the  valor 
and  the  intrepidity  of  which  he  had  given  proofs  in  Ireland. 
I  can  assure  your  Majesty  that  he  is  a  very  good  and  a 
very  able  officer."  In  March,  1693,  in  addition  to  his  rank 
of  Major-General  in  the  service  of  James  11. ,  he  was  created 
Marechal-de-Camp  in  that  of  France;  and  at  the  great  over- 
throw, in  July,  of  the  allies  under  William  by  Luxembourg, 
at  the  battle  of  Landen,  he  received  his  death  wound. 
Everyone  knows  the  sad  and  lovely  legend  according  to 
which  the  dying  soldier,  putting  his  hand  to  his  wound  and 
drawing  it  back  wet  and  red  with  his  best  blood,  sighed  out 
the  heroic  aspiration  that  that  blood  had  been  shed  for 
Ireland.  He  died  of  his  wounds  a  few  days  after  the  battle. 
His  wife.  Lord  Clanricarde's  daughter,  married  some  two 
years  after  his  death  that  very  Duke  of  Berwick  whose 
hot  youth  had  protested  against  Sarsfield's  superior  judg- 
ment. It  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  history  that  almost  all  the 
women  who  were  loved  by  the  great  heroes  of  Ireland  married 
after     the    deaths    of   their   lovers  —  Lady   Lucan,    Lady 


PA  TRICK  SARSFIELD.  51 

Edward  Fitzgerald,  the  wife  of  Wolfe  Tone,  and  Sarah 
Curran.  Historians  of  all  schools  agree  in  praise  of 
Patrick  Sarsfield.  Macauley,  who  had  little  love  for  Ireland 
and  for  any  champion  of  the  house  of  Stuart,  admits  that 
he  was  "  a  gentleman  of  eminent  merit,  brave,  upright, 
honorable,  careful  of  his  men  in  quarters,  and  certain  to 
be  always  found  at  their  head  in  the  day  of  battle."  A 
Williamite  historian  quoted  by  Mr.  O'Callaghan,  says — 
*'Arminius  was  never  more  popular  among  the  Germans 
than  Sarsfield  among  the  Irish.  To  this  day  his  name  is 
venerated — canitur  adJmc.  No  man  was  ever  more  attached 
to  his  country  or  more  devoted  to  his  king  and  his  religion." 
It  may  indeed  be  declared  that  all  Irish  history  does  not 
boast  a  nobler  gentleman  than  the  gallant  soldier,  great  of 
mind  as  he  was  gigantic  of  body,  whose  brave  heart  ceased 
to  beat  in  the  little  town  of  Huy  in  1693. 


BRIAN  BOROIMHE. 

Many  persons  of  playful  temperament  and  unincumbered 
by  any  wealth  of  historical  or  other  information  are  ac- 
customed to  allude  to  Brian  Boroimhe  in  all  lightness  of 
heart  as  a  more  or  less  mythical  individual  whose  deeds 
and  words  are  to  be  placed  on  the  same  footing  as  those 
of  Cucullain  or  Finn  MacCoul.  I  am  not  at  all  prepared 
myself  to  abandon  the  right  to  distinct  historical  recognition 
of  so  distinguished  a  warrior  as  Cucullain  or  so  eminent 
a  monarch  as  Finn.  In  an  age  which  excavates  Troy  Town 
and  unearths  from  the  dusts  of  Mycena  the  mouldering 
remains  of  the  King  of  Men,  the  scholar  would  be  rash, 
indeed,  who  denied  to  the  Feni  and  their  forefathers  the 
respect  due  to  the  heroes  of  Homeric  epic  and  Athenian 
tragedy.  But  while  we  may  frankly  admit  that  the  case 
for  the  historical  existence  of  Oisin  or  Dermat  is  not- yet 
conclusively  made  out,  we  must  insist,  wherever  such  insist- 
ance  is  necessary,  upon  the  very  different  degree  of  authen- 
ticity which  attaches  to  the  memory  of  the  famous  and 
fearless  king  who  made  himself  the  terror  of  the  Danes. 
Brian  Boroimhe  is  as  historical  a  personage  as  O'Connell 
or  Grattan,  or  Silken  Thomas  or  Shane  O'Neill.  To  rele- 
gate him  in  any  way  into  the  ghostly  company  of  Ossianic 
heroes  who  haunt  the  twilight  regions  of  romance,  is  to 
commit  a  grave  offence  of  lese  majestie  against  that  most 
high  and  potent  prince. 

Brian  Boroimhe,  or  Brian  of  the  Tribute,  was  the  greatest 
king  of  the  old  Dalcassian  line,  which  was  founded  by 
Cormac   Cas    in   the   third   century.      In   alternation  with 


BRIAN  BOROIMHE.  53 

the  princes  of  the  Eugenian  Hne  the  Dalcassian  princes  had 
ruled  over  Munster  for  seven  centuries,  when  a  son  was 
born  to  Cinneidigh,  who  was  christened  Brian.  Before  I 
explain  the  signification  of  the  surname  which  was  after- 
wards given  to  the  glory  of  the  Dalcassian  House,  I  may 
not  inappropriately  quote  a  passage  from  O'Curry's  delight- 
ful lectures,  in  which  one  valuable  social  reform,  in  itself 
enough  to  illuminate  a  kingly  reign,  is  set  forth: 

*'  Previous  to  the  time  of  the  Monarch  Brian  Boroimhe — 
about  the  year  looo — there  was  no  general  system  of  family 
names  in  Erin;  but  every  man  took  the  name  either  of  his 
father  or  of  his  grandfather  for  a  surname.  Brian,  however, 
established  a  new  and  most  convenient  arrangement  — 
namely,  that  families  in  future  should  take  permanent  names, 
either  those  of  their  immediate  fathers  or  of  any  person 
more  remote  in  their  line  of  pedigree.  And  thus  Murie 
Adhach,  the  son  of  Carthach,  took  the  surname  of  Mac- 
Carthaigh  (now  MacCarthy),  '  Mac  '  being  the  Gaelic  for 
*  son.'  Toirdhealbhagh,  or  Turloch,  the  grandson  of  Brian 
himself,  took  the  surname  of  O' Brian  or  '  the  grandson  of 
Brian' — O' being  the  Gaedhlic  for  '  grandson; '  Cathbarr, 
the  grandson  of  Donnell,  took  the  name  of  O'Donnell;  Don- 
nell,  the  grandson  of  Niall  Glendubh,  took  the  surname  of 
O'Neill;  Tadgh  or  Teige,  the  grandson  of  Conor,  took  the 
name  of  O' Conor  of  Connacht;  Donogh,  the  son  of  Mur- 
chadh,  or  Murogh,  took  the  surname  of  MacMurogh  of 
Leinster;  and  so  as  to  all  the  other  families  thoughout  the 
kingdom." 

Brian  was  born  in  the  year  941.  When  he  was  ten  years 
old  his  brother  Mahon  succeeded  to  the  kingship.  At  that 
time  the  Danes  were  the  scourge  and  the  dread  of  the  native 
Irish  princes.  Their  wild  Vikings  came  from  the  far  north 
in  their  long  ships  and  settled  eagerly  upon  the  smiling  Irish 
shores,  plundering  and  devastating  in  all  directions,  and 


54  HOURS   WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

ever  encroaching  more  and  more  upon  the  soil,  and  pushing 
the  lines  of  the  settlements  farther  and  farther  away  from 
the  sea.  From  his  earliest  boyhood  Brian  seems  to  have 
been  animated  by  the  fiercest  hatred  against  the  invaders, 
arid  by  consuming  indignation  at  the  humiliation  involved 
in  the  presence  of  the  marauding  encampments  on  Irish 
soil.  Hitherto  no  prince  or  league  of  princes  had  been 
found  strong  enough  to  drive  the  Danes  back  over  the 
swan's  bath  to  their  homes  in  the  frozen  North.  The 
desperate  courage,  the  vast  physical  strength,  the  gigantic 
frames  of  the  Northmen,  made  them  exceedingly  dangerous 
adversaries,  and  moreover,  they  settled  upon  the  country 
in  such  numbers  as  made  any  attempt  to  overthrow  them 
difficult  in  the  extreme.  Brian's  patience  seems  to  have 
given  way  when  Mahon,  in  his  sovereign  capacity  as  King 
of  Munster,  withdrew  from  what  looked  like  a  hopeless 
struggle  with  the  Danes,  and  entered  into  a  solemn  treaty 
with  them.  The  treaty  could  not  bind  Brian.  He  rallied 
around  him  a  mere  handful  of  the  bravest  and  most  desper- 
ate chieftains,  and  fought  the  hostile  Danes  wherever  and 
whenever  he  could,  and  to  such  good  purpose  that  he  suc- 
ceeded in  restraining  their  onward  advance.  Fired  by  the 
courageous  example  of  Brian,  his  brother  Mahon  and  other 
princes  took  heart  and  joined  together  in  a  comprehensive 
bond  against  the  common  enemy.  Limerick,  in  which  the 
power  of  the  Munster  Danes  was  massed,  was  assailed  and 
carried  after  some  hot  fighting,  and  the  Irish  found  them- 
selves masters  of  many  prisoners  and  a  vast  quantity  of 
treasure.  Still,  in  spite  of  this  signal  victory,  such  was  the 
power  of  the  Danes,  and  such  the  strength  of  their  arms 
from  constant  reinforcements,  and  such  the  dread  of  their 
desperate  reputation,  that  after  a  while  they  were  permitted 
to  re-enter  Limerick  as  traders,  and  become  masters  of  the 
town  again. 


BRIAN  BOROIMHE.  55 

The  reinstated  Danes  were  full  of  bitter  feelings  towards 
Mahon  as  head  of  the  great  enterprise  which  had  for  a  time 
struck  so  heavy  a  blow  at  their  influence,  and  they  deter- 
mined on  revenge.  A  conspiracy  was  formed  between  Ivar, 
head  of  the  Danes  of  Limerick,  and  a  renegade  Irish  prince, 
Molloy,  son  of  Bran,  Lord  of  Desmond,  who  had  long  been 
a  jealous  rival  of  Mahon,  whom  Mahon  had  expelled  from 
Desmond,  and  who  was  thirsting  for  revenge.  Between 
the  pair  a  scheme  was  laid  for  the  assassination  of  Mahon, 
which  was  carried  out  under  conditions  of  peculiar  and  re- 
volting perfidy.  Molloy  summoned  Mahon  to  an  amicable 
conference,  at  which  the  claims  of  the  two  rival  princes 
might  be  discussed  and  settled.  The  meeting  was  to  be 
held  at  the  house  of  Donovan,  a  Eugenian  prince.  Mahon 
went  to  the  meeting  without  any  suspicion  of  the  meditated 
treason;  he  was  imm.ediately  seized,  made  prisoner,  hurried 
to  the  mountains,  and  slain.  The  manner  of  his  death  was 
particularly  horrible,  for  it  is  told  that  when  the  murderers 
drew  their  weapons  the  betrayed  king  caught  up  a  copy  of 
the  holy  gospels  and  placed  the  open  volumes  as  a  shield 
against  his  breast.  But  neither  the  sacred  book,  nor  the 
presence  of  two  priests,  who  had  courageously  followed  the 
doomed  king,  stayed  the  murderous  hands.  The  assassins 
closed  round  the  king,  a  ring  of  levelled  points,  and  plunged 
their  weapons  again  and  again  through  the  book  into  his 
body.  Mahon  fell  to  the  ground  dead;  the  priests  caught 
up  the  sacred  volume,  its  pages  torn  with  treason's  swords 
and  blackened  with  Dalcassia's  noblest  blood,  and  hurried 
from  the  scene  of  slaughter  to  bear  the  news  of  the  murder 
far  and  wide.  Whether  even  such  assassins  were  unwilling 
to  lay  hands  upon  a  hply  man,  or  whether  they  wished  the 
news  of  Ivar's  vengeance  and  Molloy' s  treason  to  be  bruited 
abroad  as  soon  as  might  be,  they  seem  in  no  wise  to  have 
interfered  with  the  departure  of  the  priests.     Perhaps  the 


Ob  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

murderers  deemed  that  in  slaying  Mahon  they  had  sapped 
the  strength  of  Munster.  But  they  reckoned  without  the 
young  chieftain  who  had  been  foremost  in  the  late  war,  and 
whose  courage  and  genius  made  him  a  far  more  dangerous 
enemy  to  the  Danish  strength  than  the  monarch  who  had 
been  so  foully  done  to  death  in  the  Knocinreorin  Moun- 
tains. 

News  of  his  brother's  death  was  brought  to  Brian  at  Kin- 
kora.  Every  historian  has  recorded  the  passion  of  grief 
and  rage  which  seized  upon  the  young  prince;  every  historian 
has  told  how,  like  a  leader  in  Israel  or  a  Hellenic  hero, 
he  immediately  seized  his  harp  and  sang  the  death-song  of 
his  brother  and  king;  every  historian  has  quoted  the  mighty 
words  in  which  he  pledged  himself  to  vengeance: 

"  My  heart  shall  burst  within  my  breast 
Unless  I  avenge  this  great  king; 
They  shall  forfeit  life  for  this  foul  deed, 
Or  I  must  perish  by  a  violent  death.'' 

Bravely  and  resolutely  Brian  fulfilled  his  vow.  Rousing 
all  his  following,  he  flung  himself  first  upon  his  Danish  foes 
under  Ivar  of  Limerick,  and  routed  them  completely.  Ivar, 
the  chief  of  the  traitors,  with  his  two  sons,  was  slain.  Then 
he  turned  the  edge  of  his  sword  against  the  false  Eugenian 
Donovan.  Donovan  raised  a  mighty  power  of  his  own 
people  and  of  Desmond  Danes,  but  they  could  make  no 
head  against  Brian;  they  were  scattered  like  chaff,  and 
Donovan  himself  was  slain.  One  alone  now  remained  of 
Mahon's  murderers,  Molloy,  son  of  Bran.  Brian  sent  him 
a  summons  to  fight,  which  Molloy  answered  by  taking  the 
field  with  a  swollen  armament.  But  these,  too,  like  the 
others,  were  dispersed  and  scattered  by  Brian's  army,  and 
Molloy  himself  was  slain  in  the  thick  of  the  fight  by  Mur- 
jough,  Brian's  valiant  and  high-spirited  son.  Such  was  the 
swift  fate  that  overtook  the  slayer  of  Mahon.  < 


BRIAN  BOKOIAIHE.  57 

While  this  blood-feud  was  being  consummated  Brian's 
dominions  were  invaded  by  Malachy  Mor,  the  famous 
Malachy  of  the  Collar  of  Gold.  The  precise  cause  of  the 
quarrel  between  these  two  illustrious  princes  seems  now  to 
be  somewhat  uncertain,  but  it  must  have  been  fierce,  indeed, 
when  it  moved  so  gallant  a  warrior  as  Malachy  to  the  un- 
generous action  of  cutting  down  the  sacred  tree  at  Adair, 
under  which  Brian  himself,  and  the  long  line  of  his  Dal- 
cassian  ancestors,  had  been  crowned.  As  soon  as  Brian 
had  his  brother's  vendetta  off  his  hands  he  turned  the 
strength  of  his  arm  against  Malachy,  by  ravaging  West- 
meath.  For  some  time  the  quarrel  between  Brian  and 
Malachy  raged  with  intermittent  fury,  victory  sometimes  in- 
clining to  one  prince  and  sometimes  to  another.  At  last, 
however,  a  common  peril  and  a  common  enemy  united  those 
hostile  monarchs.  The  Danes,  their  decimated  ranks  stiff- 
ened by  reinforcements  from  the  far  North,  were  again  pur- 
suing their  old  policy  of  aggression  against  the  native  Irish. 
Brian  and  Malachy  clasped  hands  in  amity,  concluded  a 
truce  which  proved  to  be  a  lasting  one,  joined  their  forces, 
beat  back  the  desperate  Danes,  and  entered  Dublin.  With 
this  crushing  defeat  of  the  foreign  foe  came  the  hour  of 
Brian's  triumph.  He  claimed  the  kingship  of  Ireland,  and 
called  upon  Malachy  Mor  to  acknowledge  him,  a  course 
which  Malachy,  after  a  little  faltering  and  some  unsuccess- 
ful attempts  to  stir  up  certain  Irish  princes  to  mutiny,  finally 
adopted. 

Why  was  Brian  called  Brian  of  the  Tribute  ?  The  story 
is  curious.  O'Curry  tells  it  at  considerable  length,  and 
from  O'Curry  it  may  be  briefly  summarized  thus:  In  the 
first  century  there  appears  to  have  been  a  very  fierce  land 
agitation.  The  Aitheach  Tuatha,  who  appear  to  have 
occupied  something  of  the  position,  of  the  tenant  farmers  of 
our  time,  and  to  have  been  no  less  oppressed,  issued  a  sort 


58  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

of  No  Rent  Manifesto,  which  they  enforced  by  rising  in 
swift  and  successful  rebellion.  The  power  of  the  landlord 
was  overthrown,  and  the  Attacots,  as  the  Aitheach  Tuatha 
have  come  to  be  correctly  called,  set  up  a  ruler  of  their  own. 
King  Cat-Head.  Cat-Head's  successor  was  defeated  and 
slain  by  a  prince  of  the  legitimate  line  some  quarter  of  a 
century  after  the  revolution.  This  prince,  Tuathal  Teacht- 
mar,  had  two  fair  daughters  whom  he  loved  passing  well. 
One  of  them  was  wedded  to  Eachaidh  Aincheann,  Lord  of 
Leinster.  This  false  prince,  hearing  that  the  second  sister 
was  fairer  than  the  first,  shut  his  wife  into  close  confine- 
ment, pretended  that  she  was  dead,  and  obtained  from 
Tuathal  the  hand  of  his  second  daughter.  The  first  wife  es- 
caped from  her  prison,  confronted  her  false  husband  and  de- 
ceived bride.  The  new  queen  died  immediately  of  shame 
and  horror  at  her  situation,  and  her  sister  followed  her  to  the 
grave  soon  after.  When  Tuathal  heard  of  the  insult  to  his 
children  and  of  their  fate,  he  carried  fire  and  sword  into 
Leinster,  ravaged  the  province  from  north  to  south,  and  im- 
posed upon  its  people  forever  the  payment  of  a  triennial 
tribute,  which,  as  it  consisted  largely  of  cows,  was  called 
the  '*Boromean"  tribute,  from  the  Gaedhlic  word  "Bo," 
meaning  a  cow.  For  five  centuries  this  tribute  was  the 
cause  of  fierce  and  bloody  wars  until,  in  the  year  680,  it  was 
abolished  by  Finnachta  the  Festive.  Brian  revived  it  as  a 
punishment  for  the  adherence  of  Leinster  to  the  Danish 
cause,  and  hence  his  surname  of  Boroimhe. 

Brian's  reign  as  King  of  Ireland  was  brilliant  and  pros- 
perous. Commerce,  arts,  education  all  flourished,  and  the 
wealth  and  peace  of  the  country  became  proverbial.  But 
the  old  hatred  of  the  Danes,  long  smoldering,  blazed  at  last 
into  determined  insurrection.  Aided  by  treason  among  the 
Irish  chiefs  and  princes,  a  formidable  army  was  levied 
against  the  aged  king.     But  age  had  not  cooled  the  fiery 


BRIAN  BOROIMHE.  59 

courage  of  Brian's  nature.  He  raised  all  his  power  and  met 
his  foes  at  Clontarf  on  Good  Friday,  the  23d  of  April,  1014. 
The  fortunes  of  that  fight  are  a  familiar  story.  The  Danes 
were  defeated,  but  victory  was  scarcely  less  terrible  to  vic- 
tors than  to  vanquished,  for  in  the  very  ebb  of  the  battle  a 
Danish  chief  struck  down  and  slew  the  greatest  prince  who 
ever  ruled  over  Ireland,  one  of  the  greatest  monarchs  whose 
name  is  recorded  in  the  history  of  the  world. 


LORD    EDWARD   FITZGERALD. 

In  the  finest  and  most  famous  of  the  speeches  of  Thomas 
Francis  Meagher,  the  orator  appeals  to  "the  ducal  palace 
in  this  kingdom  where  the  memory  of  the  gallant  and  sedi- 
tious Geraldine  enhances  more  than  royal  favor  the  splen- 
dor of  his  race."  There  is  not  in  the  whole  history  of  ora- 
tory a  finer  passage  than  that  from  which  those  words  are 
taken.  Demosthenes  from  his  rock-stand  beholding  "un- 
stable Athens  heave  her  stormy  seas  "  beneath  him;  Cicero 
defying  the  menaces  of  armed  men  within  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts of  the  Senate  House;  Vergniaud,  lending  to  the  pas- 
sions of  the  French  Revolution  a  lustre  it  was  destined  soon 
to  lose,  never  uttered  a  more  pow^erful  appeal  to  the  tradi- 
tions and  the  emotions  of  a  people  than  that  in  which  the 
enthusiast  of  Young  Ireland  conjured  his  hearers  and  all 
the  world  to  cast  aside  the  "  miserable  maxim  "  of  his  ad- 
versaries. If  it  were  permissible  to  suggest  any  possible 
improvement  in  such  a  rush  of  magnificent  and  immortal 
language — and  I,  for  one,  am  so  intense  an  admirer  of 
Meagher's  speeches  that  to  hint  at  any  alteration  of  them  is 
scarcely  less  bold  than  a  Mussulman  proposition  to  amend 
the  Koran — it  might  be  suggested  that  there  is  a  spot  more 
intimately  connected  with  the  "  gallant  and  seditious  Geral- 
dine," and  more  appropriate  even  than  the  ducal  palace  of 
his  race,  to  point  such  an  appeal  to  his  countrymen  That 
spot  is  the  small  room  in  Thomas  street  where  Lord  Edward 
fought  so  desperately  against  arrest;  and  where  with  his 
capture  and  subsequent  death  the  last  hopes  of  the  United 
Irishmen  were  extinguished.     A  tradition  common  to  many 


LORD  ED  WARD  FITZGERALD.  61 

countries  is  fond  of  declaring  that  in  places  where  a  great 
murder  has  been  committed  the  blood  of  the  victim  has 
stained  forever  the  floor  with  an  ineradicable  mark.  Thus, 
in  Holyrood  the  traveller  who  has  come  to  the  foot  of 
Arthur's  vSeat  is  shown  by  his  cicerone  the  darkened  corner 
which  is  said  to  have  borne  ineffacable  testimony  of  blood 
ever  since  the  angry  daggers  of  the  Scottish  gentlemen  met 
in  the  body  of  the  Italian  favorite.  Over  in  Hanover,  in 
the  ancient  palace  of  the  Guelphs,  there  is  a  blood-stained 
spot  in  the  Hall  of  the  Knights  where  Count  Konigsmarck 
met  his  death,  at  the  hands,  some  say,  of  the  dissolute 
Elector  who  afterwards  became  King  of  England  under  the 
title  of  George  the  First.  The  tradition  which  lingers 
around  the  scenes  where  the  feeble  Italian  music-maker  and 
the  sinful  Swedish  adventurer  were  slaughtered  has  not  been 
repeated  for  the  gallant  and  seditious  Geraldine.  No  trace 
of  his  brave  blood  stains  the  walls  where  he  made  his  last 
stand,  and  where  the  short  struggle  raged  so  fiercely  that 
all  the  narrow  place  was  splashed  with  his  life  current.  But 
in  the  mind's  eye  of  the  pilgrim  to  that  shrine  those  sordid 
walls  are  still  reddened  and  sanctified  by  the  bravest  blood 
that  ever  yet  was  offered  up  in  the  cause  of  national  liberty. 
My  thoughts  have  been  specially  turned  in  the  direction 
of  that  room  and  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald  this  week  by 
a  letter  which  has  just  come  into  my  possession,  and  which 
has  a  special  bearing  upon  his  story,  and  most  of  all  upon 
the  closing  scene  of  it.  The  letter,  which  comes  from  New 
South  V/ales,  was  written  in  the  December  of  last  year  by 
a  grandson  of  the  soldier  named  Ryan  who  was  chiefly  in- 
strumental in  effecting  the  capture  of  Lord  Edward,  and 
who  died  of  the  wounds  he  received  in  the  struggle  with  the 
Geraldine.  Yeomanry  Captain  Ryan's  grandson  objects 
very  strongly  to  the  description  given  of  the  scene  in  which 
Mr.  Froude's  "  English  in  Ireland  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 


63  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

tury,"  wherein  he  represents  Major  Swan  as  *' being 
wounded  through  and  through,  and  cHnging  to  Lord  Ed- 
ward." The  Mr.  Ryan  of  to-day  appeals  against  this  to 
the  statement  of  his  father,  yeomanry  Captain  Ryan's  son, 
as  given  in  the  memoirs  and  correspondence  of  Viscount 
Castlereagh,  edited  by  Lord  Londonderry,  and  to  the  account 
given  in  Haverty's  History  to  maintain  his  case,  that  to 
Captain  Ryan,  and  to  Captain  Ryan  alone,  is  it  due  that 
the  arrest  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald  was  effected.  As 
Mr.  Ryan  is  exceedingly  anxious  to  have  the  actual  facts 
of  the  tragedy  of  Thomas  street  made  known,  and  as  it  is 
the  historian's  duty  to  seek  for  accuracy  even  in  the  minutest 
details,  I  cannot  do  better  than  set  forth  and  give  publicity 
to  those  portions  of  Mr.  Ryan's  case  upon  which  he  most 
strongly  relies: 

"Unwillingness,"  says  Mr.  Ryan,  "to  offend  the  sus- 
ceptibilities of  Swan's  survivors  doubtless  caused  my  father 
to  content  himself  with  simply  repudiating  any  important 
part  being  taken  by  Swan  on  that  occasion  without  em- 
phatically stating  that  he  had  left  the  room;  but  when  I  find 
subsequent  historians  of  Mr.  Froude's  literary  rank  and 
reputation  giving  such  a  false  representation  of  Swan's  ser- 
vices (or  rather  non-services)  in  the.affair,  I  cannot  but  feel 
sorely  aggrieved  and  indignant,  and  will  not  hesitate  to 
strive  to  have  the  truth  manifested.  I  consider  Sirr's  letter 
to  my  father  in  '38  (published  in  my  father's  statement),  so 
far  as  it  relates  to  Swan,  both  evasive  and  hypocritical.  My 
father  had  asked  him  whether  he  had  sanctioned  the  ac- 
counts published  in  the  Times  of  that  day,  wherein  Swan's 
share  in  the  transaction  was  grossly  exaggerated,  I  think. 
Yet  he  declines  to  meet  that  simple  question  in  a  straight- 
forward and  manly  way,  and  because  he  was  not  present  at 
the  scene  of  that  struggle,  forsooth,  '  he  k?iew  nothing  about 
it.,'  as  if  any  one  can  for  a  moment  believe  that  those  two 


LORD  EDWARD  FITZGERALD.  63 

men,  Sirr  and  Swan,  who  were  on  most  intimate  terms, 
officially  and  privately,  had  not  often  discussed  between 
themselves  that  most  eventful  occurrence  with  all  its  sad 
and  thrilling  attendant  circumstances.  His  silence,  there- 
fore, about  Swan's  affording  any  help  in  the  actual  conflict, 
in  my  mind,  recoils  on  his  friend's  reputation  with  most  in- 
jurious effect — as  either,  if  present,  he  held  aloof  from 
practical  assistance,  which  Sirr  would  be  ashamed  to  admit; 
or  if,  as  I  believe,  he  had  early  left  the  room,  and  was 
therefore  not  present  to  render  help,  so  he  (Swan)  could 
give  no  account  of  it.  Thus,  Sirr  evades  answering  the 
question  altogether,  as  in  either  case  it  could  only  reflect 
disastrously  on  Swan's  character.  .  .  .  I  was  always  told 
by  my  father  that  Swan  on  being  wounded  left  the  room, 
when  his  father  immediately  entered,  and  effectually  pre- 
vented Lord  Edward's  escape  by  the  staircase  communi- 
cating with  the  roof  of  the  house,  and  that  his  father  had 
to  deal  with  Lord  Edward  single-handed.  This  information 
he  derived  from  his  mother,  a  lady  member  of  the  Bishop 
family — one  of  the  best  families  in  the  county  Cork  in  those 
days — and  she  had  received  it  from  her  dying  husband." 

Mr.  Murphy's  account  of  the  arrest  goes  to  confirm  Mr. 
Ryan's  case. 

"On  the  night  of  Friday,  the  i8th  May,  1798,  Lord 
Edward  came  to  my  house  (153  Thomas  street)  at  about 
seven  o'clock.  On  Saturday,  the  19th  May,  I  went  to  Lord 
Edward's  sleeping  room,  and  found  he  was  in  bed.  I  was 
not  in  the  room  three  minutes  when  in  came  Major  Swan 
and  a  person  following  him,  in  a  soldier's  jacket  and  a  sword 
in  his  hand.  When  I  saw  Major  Swan  I  was  thunderstruck. 
He  looked  over  me  and  saw  Lord  Edward  in  bed.  He 
pushed  by  me  quickly,  and  Lord  Edward  seeing  him, 
sprang  up  instantly,  like  a  tiger,  and  drew  a  dagger,  which 
he  carried  about  him,  and  wounded  Major  Swan  slightly. 


64  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

Major  Swan  had  a  pistol  in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  which  he 
fired  without  effect.  He  immediately  turned  to  me  and 
gave  me  a  severe  thrust  of  the  pistol,  under  the  eye,  at  the 
same  time  desiring  the  person  who  came  with  him  to  take 
me  into  custody.  I  was  immediately  taken  away  to  the 
yard;  there  I  saw  Major  Sirr  and  about  six  soldiers  of  the 
Dumbarton  Fencibles.  Major  Swan  had  thought  proper  to 
run  as  fast  as  he  could  to  the  street.  Mr.  Ryan  supplied 
Major  Swan's  place,  he  came  in  contact  with  Lord  Edward, 
and  was  wounded  seriously.  Major  Sirr  at  that  time  came 
upstairs,  and,  keeping  at  a  respectful  distance,  fired  a  pistol 
at  Lord  Edward  in  a  very  deliberate  manner,  and  wounded 
him  in  the  shoulder.  Reinforcements  coming  in.  Lord  Ed- 
ward surrendered,  after  a  very  hard  struggle.  Ryan  lived 
for  about  a  fortnight  after.  Lord  Edward  died  of  his 
wounds  on  the  4th  June,  1798." 

I  have  dealt  at  so  much  length  with  Mr.  Ryan's  case  be- 
cause, as  I  said,  accuracy  even  in  the  small  details  of  a 
great  event  is  of  importance  alike  to  the  historian  and  to 
the  student  of  history.  The  latter  are  greatly  indebted  to 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  for  having  with  great  pains  ascertained 
definitely  that  the  betrayer  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald's 
hiding-place  to  the  Government  was  Higgins,  the  ^'  Sham 
Squire."  In  the  same  way,  and  to  give  completeness  to 
every  point  of  the  great  tragedy  of  Ninety-eight,  a  certain 
interest  does  attach  to  the  name  of  the  individual  who  was 
instrumental  in  effecting  the  capture  of  Lord  Edward  Fitz- 
gerald. Yeomanry  Captain  Ryan  seems  to  have  performed 
an  office  which  certainly  cannot  endear  his  memory  to  Irish- 
m.en  with  a  courage  in  which  the  two  chief  instruments  of  the 
raid  were  lacking,  and  he  sacrificed  his  life  in  the  discharge 
of  his  task.  The  establishment  of  Yeomanry  Captain 
Ryan's  right  to  recognition  as  the  chief  actor  in  the  tragedy 
has  at  least  the  effect  of  adding  a  slightly  darker  stain  to 


LORD  EDWARD  FITZGERALD.  65 

the  memories  of  Sirr  and  Swan.  I  must,  at  the  same  time 
confess  that  I  fail  to  appreciate  the  desire  of  any  man  to  be 
associated  with  the  arrest  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald;  but 
it  is  the  part  of  the  chronicler  to  accept  facts  and  to  be  glad 
of  accuracy,  even  in  matters  of  comparative  insignificance. 

The  whole  range  of  Irish  historical  literature  can  hardly 
afford  a  more  delightful  or  a  more  melancholy  volume  than 
Thomas  Moore's  Memoirs  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald. 
Written  on  that  principle  which  governs  all  the  best  bi- 
ographies, it  tells  its  story  largely  in  the  words  of  its  own 
hero,  and  where  these  most  inevitably  are  wanting  it  calls 
in  the  aid  of  contemporaries  to  fill  the  void.  Thus  the  book 
has  in  a  great  measure  all  the  indefinable  charm  which  must 
belong  to  autobiography,  and  where  this  is  missing  we  get 
from  the  letters  and  writings  of  those  who  were  themselves 
actors  in  or  spectators  of  the  age  that  realistic  impression 
which  is  the  highest  quality  of  history.  In  Moore's  fasci- 
nating pages  the  wild,  checkered,  heroic  life  loses  nothing  by 
being  recorded  by  a  poet's  pen.  From  the  first  page  to  the 
last  the  fortunes  of  the  greatest  of  the  Fitzgeralds  are  fol- 
lowed with  the  appreciative  sympathy  of  a  man  of  genius 
for  a  man  of  genius.  The  eager  boy  fed  his  spirit  with  all 
the  details  of  the  military  art,  and  he  writes  joyously  to  the 
mother  who  was  so  long  the  dearest  confidante  of  all  his 
thoughts,  hopes,  and  ambitions  about  "  a  very  pretty  survey 
of  the  fields  round  the  Garonne  "  which  he  has  made.  "  I 
have  tired  you  now  pretty  well  by  my  boastings,"  he  adds, 
simply,  *'  but  you  know  I  have  always  rather  a  good  opinion 
of  whatever  I  do."  While  still  very  young  he  joined  the 
army  and  entered  upon  the  career  of  adventure  which  was 
destined  to  end  so  tragically  while  still  in  the  flower  of  his 
age. 

His  life  for  some  years  ran  much  on  those  two  themes  of 
war  and  love,  which  are  popularly  supposed  to  be  the  chief 
3 


66  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

emotions  of  a  soldier's  mind.  All  sorts  of  fair  women  flit 
across  the  pages  of  his  letters  to  his  mother.  Shadowy 
presences  to  us,  dim  ghosts  of  those  last  century  beauties 
who  fired  the  warm  heart  and  chivalrous  soul  of  the  young 
Geraldine  !  Miss  Sandford,  *'  the  charming  girl,  very  pretty, 
with  a  great  deal  of  wit,  and  very  sensible  and  good- 
humored,"  appears  early  in  his  correspondence.  "  If  I  had 
had  time,"  he  declares,  "I  should  have  fallen  desperately 
in  love  with  her."  Then  came  the  American  War  and  his 
own  brave  deeds.  Some  years  later  he  is  convinced  that  he 
is  devoted  to  the  lady  Catharine  Mead,  Lord  ClanwiUiam's 
daughter,  who  afterwards  marries  Lord  Powerscourt;  and  of 
the  fair  Kate  he  writes  very  sweetly  and  sadly  to  the  invari- 
able recipient  of  all  his  confidences  and  all  his  joys  and 
sorrows,  his  mother.  "Pretty  dear  Kate"  is,  however, 
gradually  obliterated  from  his  memory  by  another  passion 
which  influenced  him  profoundly,  but  in  which  he  was 
doomed  to  disappointment.  He  sought  absence  and  for- 
getfulness  in  America,  where  he  became  a  member  of  the 
Bear  tribe  of  Indians,  through  the  good  graces  of  the  Chief 
of  the  Six  Nations.  But  it  took  him  long  enough  to  be 
cured  of  this  heart's  sorrow.  The  tragic  story  which 
Madame  de  Genlis  tells  of  the  unhappy  admiration  which 
Lord  Edward's  youth  and  wit,  courage  and  manly  bearing, 
aroused  in  the  beautiful  wife  of  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan 
would  happily  appear  to  be  without  foundation.  That  he 
was  a  friend  and  sincere  admirer  of  Mrs.  Sheridan  was 
natural,  and  the  close  resemblance  which  the  woman  he 
finally  married,  the  fair  Pamela,  bore  to  Mrs.  Sheridan  was 
the  chief  cause,  no  doubt,  of  the  legend.  It  was  in  Paris 
that  Lord  Edward  first  met  Pamela,  in  Moore's  words,  **  the 
adopted,  or,  as  may  now  be  said  without  scruple,  actual 
daughter  of  Madame  de  Genlis  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans." 
Paris  was  full  of  excitement  to  Lord  Edward.     The  revolu- 


LORD  EDWARD  FITZGERALD.  67 

tionary  fever  was  at  its  height,  and  carried  away  by  it. 
Lord  Edward  solemnly  renounced  his  title  at  a  Republican 
banquet,  and  insisted  upon  being  addressed  as  citizen  Ed- 
ward Fitzgerald.  This  and  his  marriage  to  a  daughter  of 
Philippe  Egalite  roused  English  anger,  and  Lord  Edward 
was  removed  from  the  roll  of  the  British  army.  Then  came 
his  life  in  Dublin,  his  impassioned  championship  of  his  op- 
pressed country,  his  adhesion  to  the  United  Irishmen,  his 
plans  for  a  revolution,  which  but  for  the  machinations  of 
traitors,  promised  every  chance  of  success,  and,  finally, 
the  fight  in  Thomas  street,  the  death  in  prison,  and  the 
grave  in  St.  Werburgh's  churchyard.  Another  Irishman, 
no  less  gallant,  no  less  devoted  to  the  cause  for  which  he, 
too,  was  destined  to  be  no  less  a  martyr,  Theobald  Wolfe 
Tone,  wrote:  ''  I  knew  Fitzgerald  very  little,  but  I  honor 
and  venerate  his  character,  which  he  has  uniformly  sustained 
and  in  this  last  instance  illustrated.  His  career  is  finished 
gloriously  for  himself,  and,  whatever  be  the  event,  his 
memory  will  live  forever  in  the  heart  of  every  honest  Irish- 
man." 


THE    EARLS. 

On  a  September  midnight  in  the  early  years  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  a  small  ship  bore  away  from  the  coast  of 
Ireland,  having  on  board  a  little  company  of  men  and 
women.  Through  the  darkness  those  on  board  strained 
their  eyes  wistfully  to  catch  the  last  glimpses  of  the  receding 
shore  which  was  so  dear  to  them,  and  which  they  were  destined 
never  to  behold  again.  The  weather  was  wild  and  stormy, 
as  if  the  very  elements  were  entering  their  fierce  protest 
against  the  fate  that  compelled  the  bearers  of  best  and 
bravest  names  in  Ireland  to  seek  for  safety  and  for  shelter 
on  a  strange  soil  among  foreign  faces  far  from  their  own 
roof-trees  and  their  own  hearth-stones. 

"It  is  certain,"  say  the  Four  Masters,  "that  the  sea 
never  carried  and  the  winds  never  wafted  from  the  Irish 
shores  individuals  more  illustrious  or  noble  in  genealogy, 
or  more  renowned  for  deeds  of  valor,  prowess,  and  high 
achievements.  The  words  of  the  Four  Masters  might  even 
have  been  bolder.  Seas,  never  bore  and  winds  never  wafted 
from  any  shores  men  of  nobler  name,  of  braver  hearts,  or 
of  more  melancholy  fortunes  than  the  two  chieftains  who 
stood  upon  the  deck  of  that  little  vessel  and  watched  through 
the  driving  spray  the  fading  outlines  of  their  fatherland, 
while  the  raging  wind  shrieked  in  their  ears  a  boding  fare- 
well. 

The  two  chieftains  were  Hugh  O'Neill,  Lord  of  Tyrone, 
and  Rory  O'Donnell,  Lord  of  Tyrconnell.  Hugh  O'Neill, 
the  elder  of  the  two  by  more  than  a  generation,  was  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  Irishmen  of  his  time,  or  of  any  time. 


THE  EARLS.  69 

He  came  of  an  ancient  and  illustrious  house.  When  Henry 
the  Eighth  was  carrying  fire  and  sword  into  Ireland,  when 
he  was  working  hard  to  destroy  with  one  hand  the  power  of 
the  Irish  princes,  and  with  the  other  the  power  of  the  Irish 
Church,  he  found  among  the  number  of  his  foes  a  certain 
noble  upon  whom  Henry  had  been  pleased  to  spend  some 
former  favor.  Con  O'Neill,  nicknamed  the  Lame.  Con  the 
Lame  flung  himself  into  the  desperate  revolt  of  the  famous 
Fitzgerald,  Silken  Thomas.  Everyone  knows  how  the  forces 
of  the  Fitzgeralds  were  shattered  by  the  English  artillery, 
which  was  then,  for  the  first  time,  employed  in  Irish  warfare 
against  them,  and  how  Silken  Thomas  and  his  five  uncles 
surrendered,  were  taken  to  London,  and  hanged  at  Tyburn. 
Con  O'Neill  held  out  for  a  while;  then  he  "  came  over  "  most 
lamentably  and  shamefully.  He  apostatized  from  his  faith, 
made  his  way  to  England  and  presented  himself  before 
Henry  VIII.  as  a  supple  and  servile  vassal.  Henry  endued 
him  with  the  title  of  Earl  of  Tyrone,  in  return  for  which 
high  honor  and  dignity  Con  the  Lame  renounced  his  ances- 
tral name  of  O'Neill,  pledged  himself  and  his  heirs  to  adopt 
English  dress  and  English  language,  to  loyally  serve,  honor, 
and  obey  the  English  King.  "And  for  his  reward,"  says 
Henry  VIIL,  in  a  document  quoted  by  Mr.  Webb,  in  his 
admirable  "Compendium  of  Irish  Biography,"  "we  gave 
unto  him  a  chayne  of  three  score  pounds  and  odde;  we 
payd  for  his  robes  and  the  charges  of  his  creation  three 
score  and  fyve  poundes  tenne  shillings  two  pens,  and  we 
gave  him  in  redy  money  oon  hundreth  poundes  sterling.'* 

For  this  base  price.  Judas  O'Neill  sold  his  honor  and  the 
honor  of  his  house.  Repentance,  however,  seems  to  have 
come  upon  him  too  late.  He  died  disgraced,  degraded  and 
broken-hearted,  leaving,  it  is  said,  his  solemn  curse  upon 
any  of  his  descendants  who  should  ever  learn  to  speak  the 
English  tongue.     His  grandson,  the  Hugh  O'Neill  who  was 


'J'O  HO  URS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

now  flying  for  his  life  from  Ireland,  had  been  brought  up 
at  the  English  Court  and  confirmed  in  the  Lordship  of 
Tyrone  by  the  English  Government.  Even  in  the  brilliant 
Court  of  Elizabeth,  crowded  as  it  was  with  statesmen,  with 
philosophers,  and  with  poets,  with  men  who,  like  the  Danish 
prince,  were  "soldier,  scholar,  courtier,  eye,  tongue, 
sword,"  the  young  Irish  chieftain  was  eminently  distin- 
guished for  his  rare  gifts  of  mind  and  body.  He  was  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  figures  of  all  the  brilliant  assembly 
who  thronged  the  halls  and  gardens  of  Kenilworth  when 
Leicester  entertained  with  almost  Oriental  splendor  his  im- 
perious mistress.  After  a  time  O'Neill  was  allowed  to  return 
to  his  own  country  and  to  the  earldom  of  his  grandfather. 
Sapient  English  statesmanship  argued  with  itself  comforta- 
bly that  a  young  Irish  nobleman  who  had  had  the  rare  good 
fortune  to  pass  his  youth  beneath  the  enchanted  influence 
of  the  Court  of  Elizabeth  must  be  forever  confirmed  in  his 
allegiance  to  the  Crown  of  England,  and  must  prove  a 
potent  engine  of  the  English  propaganda  on  his  return  to 
his  own  land.  Sapient  English  statesmanship  was  however, 
woefully  mistaken.  \Vhen  the  young  O'Neill  found  himself 
free  from  that  atmosphere  of  Elizabeth's  court,  and  treading 
the  soil  of  his  fathers,  he  proved  that  he  had  been  by  no 
means  Anglified.  "  It  was  not  very  long  before  he  assumed 
his  ancestral  title  of  The  O'Neill,  the  proud  title  which  Con 
the  Lame  had  so  basely  surrendered,  and  revived  all  the 
customs  of  ancient  Irish  chieftains.  Here  was  at  once  a 
severe  blow  to  the  bland  English  belief  that  a  process  of 
early  transplantation  could  convert  the  heir  to  an  ancient 
Irish  house  into  the  courtier  creature  of  his  foreign  masters. 
But  though  Hugh  O'Neill  was  ready  to  display  his  affec- 
tion for  his  own  land  and  his  own  people,  he  did  not  for 
long  enough  take  any  part  in  plots  or  movements  against  the 
supremacy  of  the  English  crown.     Indeed  he  was  so  long 


THE  EARLS.  71 

tranquil  that  English  statesmanship,  recovering  from  its 
first  shock,  might  well  reassure  itself  with  the  solacing 
thought  that  though  the  Lord  of  Tyrone  might  amuse  him- 
self and  flatter  the  pride  of  his  following  by  certain  conces- 
sions to  Irish  custom,  still  his  heart  was  in  the  right  place, 
and  ,beat  with  proper  loyalty  to  the  country  which  had  pro- 
cured him  the  privilege  of  breathing  the  same  air  as  Burleigh 
and  Bacon,  as  Raleigh  and  Sidney  and  Spenser.  Indeed 
Hugh  O'Neill  was  ready  enough  in  his  assurances  of  loyalty, 
and  even  in  avowed  predilection  for  the  English  manners, 
customs,  and  language,  so  that  for  a  time  he  seemed  as 
good  a  "  Queen's  man  "  as  heart  could  wish. 

Many  things,  however,  the  ties  of  friendship  and  the  ties 
of  love,  combined  to  drive  him  into  rebellion.  The  fierce- 
tempered  Lord  Deputy  Sir  John  Perrott,  had  most  treach- 
erously captured  Hugh  Roe,  or  Red  Hugh  O'Donnell,  son 
of  Hugh  O'Donnell  of  Tyrconnell,  and  had  kept  him  a 
prisoner  in  Dublin  as  a  hostage  for  his  father's  good  behavior. 
This  act  of  treachery,  while  it  made  Red  Hugh  O'Donnell 
a  bitter  and  dangerous  enemy  to  the  Crown,  deeply  angered 
Hugh  O'Neill,  who  was  Hugh  O'Donnell's  kinsman.  When 
at  length  Red  Hugh  succeeded  in  escaping  from  his  bond- 
age, burning  with  a  sense  of  his  wrongs  and  a  desire  for  re- 
venge, he  found  shelter  with  Hugh  O'Neill,  and  brought 
all  his  influence  to  bear  upon  the  Lord  of  Tyrone  to  draw 
him  into  confederation  against  the  Government.  Another 
and  a  more  romantic  cause  had  great  influence  in  urging 
Tyrone  into  revolt.  After  the  death  of  his  wife,  Hugh 
O'Neill  had  fallen  deeply  in  love  v/ith  the  beautiful  sister 
of  Sir  Henry  Bagnal,  the  Lord  Marshal,  and  the  lady  had 
returned  his  love.  In  defiance  of  the  fierce  opposition  of 
her  brother  she  eloped  with  the  Irish  chief,  and  made 
Bagnal,  who  never  looked  with  any  good-will  upon  O'Neill, 
his  remorseless  enemy. 


72  HOURS   WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

From  this  point  the  story  of  Hugh  O'Neill's  career  runs 
with  a  rush  to  the  water's  edge  where  that  ship  is  waiting  to 
bear  him  to  long  years  of  exile.  I  will  give  it,  in  its  most 
condensed  form,  in  my  own  words: 

"  Bagnal  used  all  his  influence  to  discredit  Tyrone  in  the 
eyes  of  the  English  Government,  and  he  succeeded.  Urged 
by  Red  Hugh  and  the  rebellious  chiefs  on  one  side,  and  by 
the  enmity  of  Bagnal  and  the  growing  distrust  of  the  English 
Government  on  the  other,  Tyrone  in  the  end  consented  to 
give  the  powerful  support  of  his  name  and  his  arms  to  a 
skillfully  planned  confederation  of  the  tribes.  On  all  sides 
the  Irish  chiefs  entered  into  the  insurrection.  O'Neill  was 
certainly  the  most  formidable  Irish  leader  the  English  had 
yet  encountered.  He  was  a  brilliant  general  and  a  skilled 
politician,  and  even  Mr.  Froude  admits  that  '  his  career  is 
unstained  with  personal  crimes.'  He  defeated  an  English 
army  under  Bagnal  at  the  Blackwater,  after  a  fierce  battle, 
inflamed  by  more  than  mere  national  animosity.  Each 
leader  was  animated  by  a  bitter  hatred  of  his  opponent, 
which  lends  something  of  an  Homeric  character  to  the 
struggle  by  the  Blackwater.  But  Tyrone  was  fortunate  in 
war  as  in  love.  Bagnal' s  forces  were  completely  defeated, 
and  Bagnal  himself  killed.  Fortune  seemed  to  smile  on 
Tyrone's  arms.  Victory  followed  victory.  In  a  little  while 
all  Ireland,  with  the  exception  of  Dublin  and  a  few  garrison 
towns,  was  in  the  hands  of  the  rebels.  Essex,  and  the 
largest  army  ever  sent  to  Ireland,  crossed  the  Channel  to 
cope  with  him;  but  Essex  made  no  serious  move,  and  after 
an  interview  with  Tyrone,  in  which  he  promised  more  than 
he  could  perform,  he  returned  to  England  to  his  death. 
His  place  was  taken  by  Lord  Mountjoy,  who,  for  all  his  love 
of  angling  and  of  Elizabethian  '  play  books,'  was  a  stronger 
man.  Tyrone  met  him,  was  defeated.  From  that  hour  the 
rebellion  was  over.     A  Spanish  army  that  had  come  to  aid 


THE  EARLS.  73 

the  rebels  hurriedly  re-embarked;  many  of  the  chiefs  began 
to  surrender;  wild  Red  Hugh  O'Donnell,  flying  to  Spain  to 
rouse  allies,  was  poisoned  and  died." 

Tyrone  had  to  come  to  terms.  He  and  Rory  O'Donnell, 
Red  Hugh's  brother,  alike  surrendered,  alike  made  a  mel- 
ancholy and  humiliating  submission,  and  were  alike  received 
into  nominal  favor  by  the  English  Sovereign,  James  the 
First,  who  had  just  succeeded  to  the  vacant  throne  of  Eliza- 
beth. Both  O'Neill  and  O'Donnell  had  to  make  formal 
surrender  of  all  their  estates,  and  in  return  they  received 
free  pardons,  the  re-grant  of  their  lands  under  bitter  and 
onerous  conditions,  and  new  confirmation  in  their  titles  of 
Tyrone  and  Tyrconnell.  Tyrone  visited  England  and  met 
his  new  master.  King  James.  He  stayed  at  Wanstead  as 
Mountjoy's  guest,  where  four-and-twenty  years  before  he 
had  made  one  of  the  splendid  company  assembled  at  the 
bidding  of  Leicester  to  welcome  Elizabeth.  Then  he  re- 
turned to  Ireland,  but  not  to  peace.  James  was  and  his 
deputies  were  savagely  intolerant  of  the  Catholics.  The 
King  had  promised  the  Irish  Catholics  on  his  accession  the 
privilege  of  exercising  their  religion  in  private;  but  he  soon 
revoked  his  promise,  and  the  state  of  the  Irish  Catholics 
was  worse  than  before.  "  Tyrconnell  himself  was  called 
upon  to  conform  to  the  English  faith.  Lest  these  and 
kindred  exasperations  might  arouse  once  more  the  danger- 
ous wrath  of  the  chiefs,  Chichester  enforced  a  rigorous  dis- 
armament of  the  Kernes.  It  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at  if 
the  reforming  spirit  of  James  did  not  greatly  commend  itself 
to  two  such  national  leaders  as  Tyrone  and  Tyrconnell;  it 
would  not  be  very  surprising  if  they  had  thoughts  of  striv- 
ing against  it.  Whether  they  had  such  thoughts  or  not, 
they  were  accused  of  entertaining  them.  They  were  seen 
to  be  dangerous  enemies  of  the  King's  policy,  whom  it 
would  be  convenient  to  have  out  of  the  way,  and  they  were 


74  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

proclaimed  as  traitors.  They  seemed  to  have  been  con- 
vinced of  the  impossibility  of  resistance  just  then;  they  saw 
that  it  was  death  to  remain,  and  they  fled  into  exile. 
Tyrone  and  his  wife,  Tyrconnel  with  his  sister  and  friends 
and  followers,  ninety-nine  in  all,  set  sail  in  one  small  boat 
on  the  14th  September,  1607,  and  tossed  for  twenty-one 
days  upon  the  raging  waves  of  the  sea.  We  hear  of  O'Neill 
trailing  his  golden  crucifix  at  the  vessel's  wake  to  bring 
about  a  calm;  of  two  storm-worn  merlins  who  took  shelter 
in  the  rigging  and  were  kindly  cared  for  by  the  Irish  ladies. 
On  the  4th  of  October  they  landed  at  Quilleboeuf,  on  the 
coast  of  France,  and  made  their  way  to  Rouen,  receiving 
kind  treatment  at  all  hands.  James  demanded  their  sur- 
render, but  Henri  Quatre  refused  to  comply,  though  he  ad- 
vised the  exiles  to  go  into  Flanders.  Into  Flanders  they 
went,  their  ladies  giving  the  Marshal  of  Normandy  those 
two  storm-worn  merlins  they  had  cherished  as  a  token  of 
their  gratitude  for  his  kindness.  From  Flanders,  in  time,, 
they  made  their  way  to  Rome." 

There,  in  the  shadow  of  the  Sacred  City  the  chieftains  of 
Tyrone  and  Tyrconnell  breathed  their  last.  Tyrconnell  was 
the  first  to  fall.  Within  a  few  weeks  of  the  entry  of  the 
exiles  into  the  Eternal  City  he  sickened  and  died,  and  was 
buried  in  the  Church  of  San  Pietro  di  Montorio,  where  the 
Janiculum  surveys  the  city  and  the  river  and  the  distant 
Alban  Hills.  His  brother,  Caffar,  soon  followed  him,  and 
was  laid  beside  him.  One  by  one  the  httle  band  of  exiles 
was  thinned  out  by  death  until  at  last  the  great  O'Neill  was 
left  almost  alone.  "  He  found, "the  Rev.  Father  Meehan  tells 
us  in  the  volume  which  is  one  of  the  richest  contributions 
to  modern  Irish  history,  "The  Fate  and  Fortunes  of  the 
Earls  of  Tyrone  and  Tyrconnell,"  '^  some  alleviation  of  his 
sorrows,  chiefly  in  the  assiduous  practices  of  religion,  and 
partly  in  visiting  every  object  of  interest,   Christian  and 


THE  EARLS.  75 

Pagan,  within  the  walls  of  the  Eternal  City."  We  have 
a  melancholy  picture  of  the  exiled  chief  wandering  about 
in  Rome,  sorrowing  for  his  sons,  vainly  appealing  to  be 
allowed  to  return  to  Ireland,  and  wishing  hopelessly  to  be 
back  in  his  own  land,  and  able  to  strike  one  more  good 
blow  for  her.  Later  on  he  became  blind,  and,  at  last,  after 
eight  years  of  desolate  exile,  he  died  on  the  20th  of  July, 
1 616,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age.  He  was  buried 
by  the  side  of  his  companion,  Tyrconnell,  in  the  Church  of 
San  Pietro  di  Montorio.  The  dust  of  the  Earls  lends  a 
new  dignity  to  the  hallowed  spot  which  religion  and  art  unite 
to  endow  with  an  especial  sanctity.  Close  at  hand  tradition 
marks  the  spot  where  Peter  met  his  martyrdom,  Raphael  had 
painted  his  transfiguration  for  the  grand  altar  of  the  church, 
Sebastiano  Del  Piombo  had  colored  its  walls  with  the  scourg- 
ing of  the  Redeemer.  Travellers  come  to-day  from  all  parts 
of  the  world  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  church  wherein 
the  honored  ashes  of  the  Earls  are  enshrined. 


OLIVER   GOLDSMITH. 

Trayfllers  delight  in  wandering  over  the  surface  of  the 
world  in  search  of  ruins  and  the  sentiments  which  the  sight 
of  ruins  give  rise  to.  In  the  words  in  which  Schiller's 
soldier  of  fortune  describes  the  followers  of  Wallenstein, 
"they  are,  like  the  wind's  blast,  ever-resting  homeless," 
and  they  "storm  across  the  war-convulsed  earth"  in  per- 
petual pursuit  of  decay,  and  all  the  phantom  dreams  decay 
can  generate.  They  will  stand  spell-bound  on  the  plain  of 
Argos  and  watch  the  eagle  wheel  his  fierce  flight  through 
the  keen  air  which  once  gleamed  with  the  leaping  flames 
that  bounded  from  hill  to  hill,  and  shore  to  shore,  to  awaken 
an  answering  flame  in  the  eyes  of  Clytemnestra.  They  will 
sigh  by  the  stunted  columns  of  earliest  Doric  mould,  which 
are  all  that  remain  of  the  glories  of  Corinth,  and  will  envy 
even  plundering,  blundering  Mummius  the  sight  which  the 
queenly  city  presented  to  his  scornful,  conquering,  Roman 
eyes.  They  will  stand  entranced  at  moonlight  in  the  long 
Hall  of  the  Kings  at  Karnak,  and  heedless  of  the  hushed 
lapse  of  the  sacred  river  or  the  cry  of  the  jackals  in  the 
plain  beyond  the  mouldering  walls,  or  the  Anglo-Arabic 
chatter  of  the  donkey  boys,  will  piece  together  those 
ruined  monuments,  and  people  the  regenerated  aisles  with 
the  stupendous  shadows  of  mummied  Egypt.  They  will 
feed  their  fantastic  thoughts  with  fallen  columns  and 
shattered  obelisks  and  crumbling  arches  and  the  wind 
swept  solitude  of  deserted  halls,  and  summon  in  those  gaunt 
spaces  more  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep  than  ever  Glen- 
dower  boasted  to  have  at  his  command,  and,  more  fortunate 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH,  77 

than  Glendower,  will  find  the  thin  shades  obedient.  And 
yet  there  are  times  and  places  when  they  will  experience  a 
greater  sense  of  solitude,  a  more  awful  consciousness  of  the 
loneliness  of  life,  of  swift  destruction  and  of  inevitable 
change  in  some  thronged,  populous  place,  some  buildings 
which  the  restless,  restoring  hands  of  man  have  never  suf- 
fered to  fall  into  decay,  where  men's  voices  never  cease  to 
echo,  and  the  hurrying  footsteps  of  man  never  die  away 
into  silence. 

Such  a  spot — more  melancholy  in  its  brisk  variety,  more 
ghost-haunted  in  all  its  crowded  bee-hive  activity  of  life 
than  Corinth  or  Karnak,  is  the  agglomerations  of  halls  and 
houses,  cloisters  and  courts  and  libraries  which  is  known 
to  all  the  world  as  the  Temple  by  the  Thames.  A  great 
poet  has  sought  to  paint  the  sense  of  solitude  thus: 

"  The  palace  that  to  Heaven  his  pillars  threw, 
And  kings  his  forehead  on  his  threshold  drew; 
I  saw  the  solitary  ringdove  there, 
And  *Coo,  coo,  coo,'  she  cried,  and  'Coo,  coo,  coo.'" 

But  the  plaint  of  the  loneliest  bird  in  the  loneliest  place 
has  not  a  more  pathetic  music  than  the  ebbing,  flowing, 
never  silent  sea  of  human  noise  which  surges  all  day  and 
every  day  through  the  walks  and  ways  of  the  Temple. 
There  are  fewer  ghosts  in  the  hollows  of  the  Alban  Hills 
than  within  its  humming,  jostling  liberties.  Of  all  the 
ghosts  that  go  so  thickly  through  the  Temple,  flitting  silently 
side  by  side  with  the  restless,  breathing,  busy  generation  now 
quick  within  its  walls,  one  phantom  is  most  familiar  and 
most  famous — the  phantom  of  a  kindly,  impulsive  presence; 
of  a  noble  nature,  shining  star-like  through  sordid  surround- 
ings and  the  squalidest  trials  and  tribulations;  of  one  on 
whom  the  curse  of  Swift  had  fallen,  in  that  he  was  a  man 
of  genius  and  an  Irishman — the  genial,  gentle,  glorious 
ghost  of  Oliver  Goldsmith. 


78  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

"Dr.  Goldsmith,"  said  his  most  famous  friend  of  the 
man  who  was  then  lying  in  the  Temple  earth,  "  Dr.  Gold- 
smith was  wild,  sir,  but  he  is  so  no  more."  This  epitaph 
has  been  quoted  a  thousand  times,  but  it  must  in  no  sense 
be  taken  as  a  summing  up  of  the  dead  man's  career.  It 
was  a  just  rebuke  rightly  and  wisely  addressed  to  the  critic 
who  at  such  a  moment  could  find  heart  or  inclination  to  say 
that  Oliver  Goldsmith  had  been  wild.  Dr.  Johnson,  who 
uttered  the  rebuke,  put  the  same  thought  even  more  pro- 
foundly in  a  letter  addressed  to  Bennet  Langton  shortly 
after  Goldsmith's  death.  In  this  letter  he  announces  Gold- 
smith's death,  mentions  his  "  folly  of  expense,"  and  con- 
cludes by  saying,  "but  let  not  his  frailties  be  remembered; 
he  was  a  very  great  man."  The  words  are  more  impressive 
than  the  labored  magniloquence  of  the  Greek  epitaph  which 
Johnson  wrote  on  Goldsmith. 

The  writings  of  Oliver  Goldsmith  are  distinguished  in  the 
literature  of  the  English  language,  and,  indeed,  in  the  litera- 
ture of  the  world,  by  their  sweet,  pure  humor,  fresh  and 
clear  and  sparkling  as  a  fountain  whose  grassy  edges  the 
satyr's  hoofs  have  never  trampled,  by  their  tender  humanity 
and  gentle  charity,  by  the  nobility  of  their  lesson — a  no- 
bility only  heightened  by  the  intense  vital  sympathy  with 
the  struggles  and  sorrows  and  errors  of  mankind.  A  new 
St.  Martin  of  Letters,  he  is  ever  ready  to  share  his  mantle 
of  pity  with  the  sad  and  the  sinning.  He  had  himself  suf- 
fered so  much,  and  been  so  tempted  and  tested,  and  had 
retained  through  all  his  trials  so  much  of  the  serenity  of  a 
child,  that  all  his  writings  breathe  compassion  for  frailty  and 
failure,  and  something  of  a  schoolboy  sense  of  brotherhood 
which  sweetens  even  his  satire.  The  flames  of  London's 
fiery  furnace  had  blazed  and  raged  about  him,  but  he  passed 
through  them  unconsumed;  their  scorching  breath  never 
seared  his  soul,  their  fierce  heat  had  no  power  to  dry  his 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  79 

heart  or  brain.  The  age  in  which  he  lived  was  not  an  age 
of  exalted  purity;  the  city  wherein  he  abode  was  scarcely 
saintly.  He  dwelt  in  some  of  the  most  evil  days  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  but  his  writings  and  his  life  escaped 
pollution.  Through  all  the  weltering  horror  of  Hogarth's 
London  we  seem  to  see  him  walk  with  something  of  the 
sylvan  freshness  of  his  boyhood  still  shining  on  his  face; 
the  reflection  of  the  Irish  skies  is  too  bright  upon  his  eyes 
to  let  them  be  dimmed  by  the  squalor  and  shame  of  a  squalid 
and  shameful  city. 

With  the  true  instinct  of  his  fine  nature  he  made  his 
friends  amongst  the  best  and  noblest  of  his  time;  his  in- 
timates and  companions  were,  first  and  foremost,  his  great 
countryman,  Edmund  Burke,  and  the  rough,  true-hearted 
moralist,  physically  and  mentally  gigantic,  Dr.  Johnson  and 
he  "on  whose  burning  tongue  truth,  peace  and  freedom 
hung,"  and  the  high-minded  painter  who  has  preserved  for 
us  all  that  glittering  restless  world  of  lovely  women  and 
brilliant  men,  and  in  the  back-ground  the  opiniated,  clever, 
hypocondriac,  venerating  little  Laird  of  Aughinleck  taking 
his  notes  on  his  great  man's  aphorisms,  and  smiling  to  him- 
self when  Dr.  Goldsmith,  in  one  of  his  transient  flashes  of 
peevishness,  protests  against  being  addressed  as  "Goldy," 
even  by  the  ingenious  author  of  "  Rasselas,  '  the  esteemed 
Dr.  Johnson.  He  had  women  friends,  too,  as  wisely  chosen 
as  the  men,  women  who  were  kind  to  him  and  admired  him, 
women  whose  kindness  and  admiration  were  worth  the  win- 
ning, women  whose  friendship  brightened  and  soothed  a  life 
that  was  darkened  and  vexed  enough.  Mary  Horneck  and 
her  sister  were  the  stars  of  his  life — his  heroines,  his  idols, 
his  ideals.  Sweet  Mary  Horneck  he  has  made  immortal  as 
the  *' Jessamy  Bride."  In  the  dark  hours  of  his  poverty 
he  was  cheered  by  the  thought  of  her,  while  he  lived  he 
worshipped  her,  and  when  he  died  a  lock  of  his  hair  was 


80  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

taken  from  his  coffin  and  given  to  her.  Thackeray  tells  a 
touching  little  story  of  the  Jessamy  Bride.  She  lived  long 
after  the  death  of  the  man  of  genius  who  adored  her,  lived 
well  into  the  Nineteenth  Century;  and  "  Hazlett  saw  her  an 
old  lady,  but  beautiful  still,  in  Northcote's  painting  room, 
who  told  the  eager  critic  how  proud  she  always  was  that 
Goldsmith  had  admired  her."  Well  she  might  be.  No 
poet  ever  c.  ^ferred  a  serener  immortality  upon  the  mistress 
of  his  songs  than  Goldsmith  gave  to  the  Jessamy  Bride;  no 
woman  had  the  happiness  to  be  loved  by  a  sweeter,  or  a 
simpler  child  of  genius. 

Goldsmith  was  a  companionable  being,  and  loved  all  com- 
pany that  was  not  vicious  and  depraved.  He  could  be 
happy  at  the  Club  in  the  society  of  the  great  thinkers  and 
teachers  and  wits  of  the  time;  he  could  be  more  than  happy 
at  Barton  in  the  enchanted  presence  of  the  fair  Mary  and 
her  sister;  but  he  could  be  happy,  too,  in  far  humbler  fellow- 
ship. "I  am  fond  of  amusement,"  he  declares,  in  one  of 
his  most  delightful  essays,  "in  whatever  company  it  is  to 
be  found;  and  wit,  though  dressed  in  rags,  is  ever  pleas- 
ing to  me.''  There  was  plenty  of  wit  dressed  in  rags  drift- 
ing about  the  London  of  that  day.  Men  of  genius  slept  on 
bulkheads  and  beneath  arches,  and  starved  for  want  of  a 
guinea,  or  haunted  low  taverns,  or  paced  St.  James's  square 
all  night  in  impecunious  couples  for  sheer  want  of  lodging, 
cheering  each  other's  supperless  mood  with  political  con- 
versation and  declarations  that  let  come  what  might  come 
they  would  never  desert  the  ministry.  But  Goldsmith  un- 
earthed men  of  genius  whose  names  nobody  ever  heard  of, 
and  made  merry  with  them,  and  studied  them,  and  trans- 
ferred them  to  his  pages  for  us  to  make  merry  withal  more 
than  a  century  after  Goldsmith  has  fallen  asleep.  We  must 
suspect  that  Goldsmith  never  really  found  those  wonderful 
beggars  he  chronicles.     He  is  not  their  discoverer  as  Colum- 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  8] 

bus  discovered  America;  he  is  their  inventor  as  the  fancy 
of  poets  invented  the  Fortunate  Islands.  Goldsmith's  Stroll- 
ing Player  is  as  real  as  Richard  Savage,  with  whom  he  was 
contemporary,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  is  a  more 
presentable  personage.  What  a  jolly  philosophy  is  his  about 
delights  of  beggary.  It  has  all  the  humor  of  Rabelais,  with 
no  smack  of  the  Touraine  grossness;  all  the  wisdom  of  the 
Antonine,  only  clad  in  homespun — and  somewhat  tattered 
homespun,  too — instead  of  the  imperial  purple.  "  Oh,  the 
delights  of  poverty  and  a  good  appetite  !  We  beggars  are 
the  very  fondlings  of  nature;  the  rich  she  treats  like  an 
arrant  stepmother  they  are  pleased  with  nothing;  cut  a  steak 
from  what  part  you  will,  and  it  is  unsupportably  tough; 
dress  it  up  with  pickles,  and  even  pickles  cannot  procure 
them  an  appetite.  But  the  whole  creation  is  full  of  good 
things  for  the  beggar;  Calvert's  butt  out-tastes  champagne, 
and  Sedgeley's  home-brewed  excels  Tokay.  Joy,  joy,  my 
blood  !  Though  our  estates  lie  nowhere,  we  have  fortunes 
wherever  we  go  !  If  an  inundation  sweeps  away  half  the 
grounds  of  Cornwall  I  am  content — I  have  no  lands  there; 
If  the  stocks  sink,  that  gives  me  no  uneasiness — I  am  no 
Jew."  Was  ever  the  philosophy  of  contentment  more 
merrily  or  more  whimsically  expressed  ?  A  whole  synod  of 
sages  could  not  formulate  a  scheme  in  praise  of  poverty  that 
should  be  half  so  impressive  as  the  contagious  humor  of 
this  light-hearted  merriment.  The  strolling  player  has  the 
best  of  the  argument,  but  he  has  it  because  he  is  speaking 
with  the  persuasive  magic  of  the  tongue  of  Oliver  Goldsmith. 
The  same  pervading  cheerfulness,  the  same  sunny  phi- 
losophy, which  is,  however,  by  no  means  Panglossian,  per- 
vades all  his  work.  Beau  Tibbs  boasting  in  his  garret.  Dr. 
Primrose  in  Newgate,  the  Good  Natured  Man  seated  be- 
tween two  bailiffs,  and  trying  to  converse  with  his  heart's 
idol  as  if  nothing  had  happened.     Mr.  Hardcastle  foiled  for 


82  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

the  five  hundreth  time  in  the  tale  of  "Old  Grouse  in  the 
Gun-room,"  are  each  in  their  own  way  excellent  examples 
of  Goldsmith's  method  and  Goldsmith's  manner.  If  Gold- 
smith did  not  enjoy  while  he  lived  all  the  honor,  all  the 
adniiration,  all  the  rewards  that  belonged  of  right  to  his 
genius,  the  four  generations  that  have  succeeded  to  him  have 
amply  made  amends  for  the  errors  of  their  ancestors.  She 
Stoops  to  Conquer  is  still  the  most  successful  of  stock 
comedies,  and  a  rising  actress  seldom  misses  the  chance 
of  appearing  in  it.  "The  Good-Natured  Man''  still 
keeps  the  stage,  and  is  a  never-failing  delight  to  the 
student  in  his  closet.  What  satires  are  better  known 
than  the  letters  of  the  "Citizen  of  the  World?"  what 
spot  on  the  map  is  more  familiar  than  "  Sweet  Auburn," 
whose  essays  are  more  deserving  of  study  for  the  easy 
grace  and  beauty  of  the  style  ?  As  for  the  *'  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,"  what  words  could  be  added  to  its  praise  that 
would  not  be  profitless.  It  has  taken  possession  of  the 
world,  it  is  dear  to  every  country,  and  known  in  every  lan- 
guage; it  has  assumed  its  place  by  an  unquestionable  right 
with  the  masterpieces  of  all  time,  and  the  hundred  best 
books  would  be  an  odd  assemblage,  indeed,  which  did  not 
include  the  deathless  story  of  Dr.  Primrose  and  his  sons 
and  daughters. 

The  memory  of  Oliyer  Goldsmith  is  still  green  in  the 
place  of  his  birth.  In  Ballymahon,  in  the  pleasant  reading- 
room  of  the  local  library,  there  stands  a  bronze  statuette, 
a  graceful  reproduction  in  liitle  of  the  famous  figure  in 
College  Green,  of  the  great  author  who  was  a  child  of  the  soil. 
Like  many  great  men  of  genius  Goldsmith  sleeps  afar  from 
the  scenes  of  his  boyhood.  He  lies  in  an  English  church- 
yard. The  noise  and  rattle  and  roar  of  a  great  city  rave 
about  his  grave;  of  a  great  city  which  has  grown  and  swollen 
and  extended  its  limits,  and  multiplied  its  population  out  of 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  83 

all  resemblance  to  that  lesser  London  where  Goldsmith  lived 
and  was  loved,  and  dunned  and  starved,  and  sorrowed  for. 
If  Goldsmith's  ghost  could,  indeed,  as  I  have  fancied,  visit 
again  the  scenes  of  his  hardly-used  manhood  he  would  feel 
like  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land.  Over  in  the  place  of  his 
birth,  time  has  moved  a  gentler  measure.  Many  genera- 
tions of  summers  have  glided,  many  generations  of  winters 
have  softly  silvered  the  same  pleasant  Longford  meadows 
over  which  his  childish  feet  wandered,  across  which  his 
childish  eyes  gazed  at  their  widest  into  the  cloud-girdled 
horizon  where  he  saw  sights  and  read  secrets  which  other 
eyes  could  neither  see  nor  study.  Alike  in  the  feverish 
metropolis  and  in  the  tranquil  country  his  memory  is 
honored.  But  if  his  bones  sleep  in  ahen  earth  his  true 
monument,  his  real  resting-place,  is  in  the  hearts  of  his 
countrymen. 


HENRY  GRATTAN. 

Just  now  the  thoughts  of  men  when  they  are  at  all  able 
to  free  themselves  from  the  immediate  considerations  of  a 
great  national  crisis  turn  naturally  and  even  inevitably 
toward  the  men  who  are  grouped  in  history  around  the  old 
Parliament  House.  Of  all  that  group  of  soldiers  and  states- 
men, orators  and  poets,  men  of  the  robe  and  men  of  the 
sword,  the  name  which  rises  most  promptly  to  the  mind  at 
this  juncture  is  the  name  of  him  who  watched  over  the 
cradle  and  followed  the  hearse  of  the  free  Irish  Parliament 
— the  name  of  Henry  Grattan. 

Mr.  Lecky,  who  in  the  days  before  he  became  the  alarmed 
and  illogical  mouth-piece  of  Loyal  and  Patriotic  Unions, 
promised  to  prove  a  sincere,  if  not  a  sympathetic,  student 
of  Irish  history,  tells  in  his  essay  upon  Grattan  an  affecting 
anecdote.  After  the  death  of  Swift  a  paper  was  found  in 
his  desk  containing  a  list  of  the  Dean's  friends,  a  list  which 
Swift,  with  the  melancholy  irony  of  his  nature,  had  classi- 
fied as  grateful,  ungrateful  and  indifferent.  It  is  gratifying, 
though  it  is  not  surprising,  to  learn  that  the  name  of  Henry 
Grattan  occurs  three  times,  and  each  occasion  it  is  marked 
as  grateful.  The  verdict  of  history  and  the  sentiments  of 
his  country  endorse  the  judgments  of  the  Dean  of  St. 
Patrick's.  There  is  no  man  whose  name  is  more  truly 
*' grateful"  to  the  Irish  people,  and  if  we  cared  to  pursue 
the  fanciful  parallel  further  we  might  even  assume  that  there 
are  three  special  episodes  in  Grattan' s  life,  corresponding 
with  the  three  entries  in  the  list  of  Swift,  which  especially 
endear  him  to  his  nation— his  connection  with  the  volun- 


HENR  V  GRA  TTAN.  85 

teers,  his  advocacy  of  the  claims  of  his  disabled  fellow-citi- 
zens, and  his  heroic  battle  against  the  act  of  Union. 

Henry  Grattan  was  born  in  Dublin,  on  the  3d  of  July, 
1746.  His  father,  who  was  Recorder  of  Dublin  and  member 
of  the  Irish  Parliament,  was  a  fierce-tempered,  narrow- 
minded  man,  of  a  temperament  always  ready  to  entertain 
violent  animosities,  and  to  adhere  stubbornly  to  them.  Such 
an  animosity  he  displayed  towards  Lucas;  such  an  animosity 
he  displayed  towards  his  own  son,  Henry  Grattan,  for  ven- 
turing to  entertain  opinions  whose  Liberal  tendency  was 
highly  distasteful  to  the  stern  Recorder.  When  Grattan's 
father  died  his  animosity  toward  his  son  survived  him,  and 
manifested  itself  in  his  will,  in  which  the  family  mansion 
was  bequeathed  to  another.  A  small  provision  was,  how- 
ever,  secured  for  Grattan  through  the  influence  of  his 
mother,  which  enabled  him  to  devote  himself  to  the  career 
he  had  marked  out  for  himself.  From  his  very  boyhood  he 
had  distinguished  himself  by  a  passionate  devotion  to  letters, 
and  of  all  branches  of  human  art  that  of  oratory  appeared 
at  an  early  age  to  have  the  most  attractions  for  him.  After 
a  shining  record  at  Trinity  he  was  called  to  the  Bar,  and 
crossed  St.  George's  Channel  to  devote  himself  in  London, 
in  the  Temple,  to  the  profession  which  in  the  eighteenth 
century  offered  the  most  prizes  to  its  disciples,  the  legal 
profession.  But  it  seems  certain  that  his  rooms  echoed 
more  often  to  the  sound  of  lofty  passages  of  ancient  and 
modern  eloquence  than  to  the  dry  repetition  of  leading 
cases.  Oratory  was  the  young  man's  passion,  and  in  London 
he  was  able  to  gratify  his  passion  to  the  full.  London,  in 
the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  was  a  pleasant  place 
enough  for  the  stranger — even  a  dangerously  pleasant  place 
for  the  imprudent  and  unwary.  But  to  Grattan  the  chief 
charm  of  London  lay  in  its  suburb  of  Westminster.  He 
preferred  the  debates  in  the  House  of  Lords,  to  the  attrac- 

BOSTON  COLLEGE  LI  BRAKY 
CBJCSTNUT  HILL,  MASS, 


86  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

tions  of  the  play-house,  the  ambitions  of  the  great  man's 
levee,  or  the  intrigues  of  the  masquerade.  The  genius  of 
Chatham  taught  him  that  oratory  was  as  powerful  as  it  had 
been  in  the  Bema  or  the  Rostrum,  and  he  listened  with  a 
breathless  fascination  to  the  majestic  periods  and  glowing 
language  of  the  foremost  statesman  of  his  time. 

What  he  heard  at  Westminster  Grattan  studied,  imitated, 
exercised  himself  upon  in  all  manner  of  likely  and  unlikely 
places.  We  hear  of  an  alarmed  landlady  imploring  Grattan' s 
friends  to  look  after  the  wild  young  man  who  paced  his 
room  of  nights  when  decent  folk  were  abed,  muttering  to 
himself  and  apostrophizing  some  mysterious  individual 
whom  he  hailed  as  Mr.  Speaker.  Another  even  more  fan- 
tastic story  is  recorded  of  him.  Wandering  one  day  in 
Windsor  forest  he  came  upon  an  abandoned  gibbet.  His 
moody  imagination — at  that  time  his  mind  was  strangely 
moody — fired  by  the  strange  scene  inspired  him,  and  he  was 
declaiming  to  himself  energetically  before  the  deserted 
gallows  when  his  eloquence  was  interrupted  by  some  one 
touching  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  on  looking  round  he  was 
addressed  by  a  passer-by,  whom  the  strange  spectacle  had 
attracted,  with  the  whimsical  query:  **  Pray,  sir,  how  did  you 
get  down,"  a  query  significantly  pointed  by  a  ge^ure  in  the 
direction  of  the  tenantless  gibbet. 

In  1768  he  returned  to  Ireland  to  become  the  close  friend 
of  Henry  Flood,  and  more  gradually  of  all  the  eminent  men 
of  the  day.  Charlemont,  scholarly,  travelled,  urbane;  Her- 
cules Langrishe  renowned  more  as  the  recipient  of  Burke's 
famous  letters  than  for  his  own  actions;  Hussey  Burgh, 
eloquent  and  eager.  These  and  many  others  were  in  the 
nearest  circle  of  Grattan' s  friendships.  In  such  company 
his  political  zeal  could  not  fail  to  flourish,  and  his  political 
ambition  to  increase.  His  rare  talents  were  well-known,  his 
friends  were  influential;   a  Parliamentary  career  was  essen- 


HENR  V  GRA  TTAiV.  »  < 

tial.  In  1775  he  entered  Parliament  as  member  for  the 
borough  of  Charlemont,  to  which  he  had  been  nominated 
by  Lord  Charlemont.  He  entered  Parliament  at  a  peculiar 
time — a  time  which  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of  imme- 
diately distinguishing  himself,  and  his  enemies  of  accusing 
him  of  acting  ungenerously  toward  a  friend.  Flood,  most 
unfortunately  for  his  fame,  had  gratified  the  natural  desire 
of  Lord  Harcourt  by  accepting  a  lucrative  office.  As  Vice- 
Treasurer  he  was  practically  muzzled,  and  the  indignant 
patriots  found  themselves  without  a  leader.  Grattan,  by 
natural  right,  stepped  into  the  vacant  leadership.  It  is  prob- 
able that  even  if  Flood  had  not  accepted  office  and  alienated 
his  party,  Grattan' s  superior  genius  would  have  given  him 
the  leadership;  but  with  Flood  swathed  and  silenced  by  office, 
Grattan' s  only  possible  course  and  duty  was  to  take  the  lead 
of  the  Patriot  party,  and  he  can  in  no  sense  be  said  to  have 
acted  unfairly  toward  Flood.  Flood  lost  the  confidence  of 
his  followers  and  his  friends  by  his  ow^n  fault;  he  could  no 
longer  lead  his  party  nor  would  the  party  longer  submit  to 
be  led  by  him.  Grattan  came  upon  the  scene  in  a  timely 
hour  to  rally  the  Patriots  and  carry  on  the  important  work 
of  opposition. 

It  is  indeed  deeply  to  be  regretted  that  one  result  of 
Flood's  action  was  the  quarrel  which  followed  between 
Grattan  and  him.  Undoubtedly  Flood's  action  in  accepting 
the  vice-treasurership  seemed  to  Grattan  an  act  of  base 
poHtical  apostacy.  On  the  other  hand.  Flood,  striving 
eagerly  to  justify  to  his  own  mind  his  action,  smarted  at  the 
swift  success  with  which  Grattan  took  his  place  as  leader  of 
the  Patriots.  The  alliance  between  the  two  orators  was 
definitely  broken  off.  They  had  been  the  closest  friends; 
they  had  worked  jointly  on  that  marvellous  "  Baratariana  " 
which  upset  Lord  Townshend.  They  had  seemed  destined 
by  their  common  genius  and  their  common  aims  to  be  com- 


88  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

rades  for  life.  But  the  hot  friendship  cooled  after  Flood's 
acceptance  of  office;  it  was  finally  severed  in  the  fierce  dis- 
cussion that  took  place  between  them  some  years  later  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  when  Flood  tauntingly  described 
Grattan  as  a  mendicant  patriot,  and  Grattan  retorted  by 
painting  Flood  as  a  traitor  in  one  of  the  most  crushing  and 
pitiless  pieces  of  invective  that  have  ever  belonged  to  oratory, 
Grattan's  career  in  the  Irish  Parliament  is  as  familiar  in 
our  mouths  as  household  words.  It  was  his  ambition  to 
secure  for  the  Senate  of  his  country  the  legislative  inde- 
pendence which  the  law  denied  her.  The  rebellion  of  the 
American  Colonies  gave  him  the  opportunity  he  wanted  in 
order  to  realize  his  ambition.  The  terrible  Paul  Jones  was 
drifting  about  the  seas;  descents  upon  Ireland  were  dreaded; 
if  such  descents  had  been  made  the  island  was  practically 
defenseless.  An  alarmed  Mayor  of  Belfast,  appealing  to 
the  Government  for  military  aid,  was  informed  that  no 
more  serious  and  more  formidable  assistance  could  be  ren- 
dered to  the  chief  city  of  the  North  than  might  be  given  by 
half  a  troop  of  dismounted  cavalry  and  half  a  troop  of  in- 
valids. If  the  French  would  consent  to  be  scared  by  such 
a  muster,  well  and  good;  if  not  Belfast,  and  for  the  matter 
of  that  all  Ireland,  must  look  to  itself.  Thereupon  Ireland, 
very  promptly  and  decisively,  did  look  to  itself.  A  fever  of 
military  enthusiasm  swept  over  the  country;  North  and 
South  and  East  and  West  men  caught  up  arms,  nominally 
to  resist  the  French,  really,  though  they  knew  it  not,  to 
effect  one  of  the  greatest  constitutional  revolutions  in  his- 
tory. Before  a  startled  Government  could  realize  what  was 
occurring  sixty  thousand  men  were  under  arms.  For  the 
first  time  since  the  surrender  of  Limerick  there  was  an  armed 
force  in  Ireland  able  and  willing  to  support  a  National  cause. 
In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  all  talk  of  organization  to  resist 
foreign  invasion  was  silenced;   in  its  place  the  voice  of  the 


HENR  V  GRA  TTAN.  89 

nation  was  heard  loudly  calling  for  the  redress  of  its  domes- 
tic grievances.  Their  leader  was  Charlemont;  Grattan  and 
Flood  were  their  principal  colonels.  The  Volunteers  formed 
themselves  into  an  organized  convention  for  the  purpose  of 
agitating  the  National  wrongs.  Grattan  was  not,  indeed,  a 
member  of  this  convention,  but  he  was  heart  and  soul  in 
sympathy  with  it.  With  statesman-like  sagacity  he  saw  that 
with  the  existence  of  the  Volunteers  had  come  the  hour  to 
heal  the  hurts  of  the  Irish  Parliament,  and  he  seized  upon 
the  opportunity.  He  had  an  army  at  his  back;  the  English 
Government  was  still  striving  with  Mr.  Washington  and 
his  rebels;  it  was  out-manoeuvred  and  had  to  give  way.  All 
that  Grattan  asked  for  was  granted;  the  hateful  Sixth  Act 
of  George  the  First  was  repealed,  and  Grattan  was  able  to 
address  a  free  people  and  to  wish  the  regenerated  Parlia- 
ment a  perpetual  existence. 

Grattan' s  first  dream  had  been  to  obtain  a  free  Parlia- 
ment; his  second  was  to  make  that  Parliament  worthy  of  its 
own  freedom  by  recognizing  the  right  to  liberty  of  the 
Catholics  of  Ireland.  Catholic  Emancipation  was  now  the 
object  of  Grattan's  ambition.  The  horrors  of  the  penal 
code  were  no  longer,  indeed,  enforced  in  all  their  naked 
brutality  against  the  majority  of  the  people  of  Ireland.  In 
the  words  of  Mr.  Lecky,  "the  code  perished  at  last  by  its 
own  atrocity."  Its  malignant  ingenuity  in  the  end  defeated 
itself;  to  carry  out  with  perfection  and  persistence  the  full 
clauses  of  that  code  would  have  required  the  strength  of  a 
whole  community  as  perverted  as  the  original  framers  of  the 
laws.  Happily  for  human  nature  no  such  corrupt  com- 
munity was  to  be  found.  The  Irish  Protestants  sickened  of 
the  provisions  of  the  penal  code.  Through  the  strength  of 
public  opinion,  most  of  its  provisions  fell  into  disuse,  and 
only  lingered  in  nominal  existence  on  the  pages  of  the  statute 
book.     Even  from  the  statute  book  the  clauses  of  the  penal 


90  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

code  were  one  by  one  being  slowly  effaced.  In  1768  a  bill 
to  modify  the  provisions  of  the  penal  code  was  passed  in 
the  Irish  House  of  Commons  and  defeated  in  the  English 
House.  Relief  bills  of  various  kinds  were  passed  in  1774, 
1778,  1782  and  1792,  The  effect  of  these  measures  was  to 
restore  to  the  Irish  Catholics  a  large  number  of  those  rights 
and  privileges  of  citizenship  of  which  they  had  been  so 
ruthlessly  deprived.  Most — but  not  all,  nor  the  most  im- 
portant. The  right  to  vote  for  representatives  in  Parlia- 
ment, the  right  to  enter  Parliament,  and  the  right  to  ad- 
vancement in  law  or  in  arms,  were  still  sternly  denied  to 
them. 

Grattan  made  himself  the  mouth-piece  of  a  movement  or- 
ganized by  the  Irish  Catholics  in  1793,  and  having  for  its 
object  the  removal  of  these  final  disabilities.  One  of  them 
Grattan  succeeded  in  abolishing.  In  1793  thanks  to  his 
efforts  and  his  eloquence,  the  Catholics  were  admitted  to 
the  elective  franchise.  But  in  his  second  effort  to  allow 
Catholics  to  be  elected  to  Parliament,  Grattan  failed.  That 
failure  and  the  recall  of  Lord  Fitzwilliam  precipitated  the 
Rebellion  of  Ninety-Eight.  Despairing  of  tne  condition  of 
his  country,  unable  to  sympathize  either  with  the  Party  of 
Rebellion  or  the  Party  of  Repression,  Grattan  retired  from 
political  life.  When  the  Rebellion  was  over,  when  its  chiefs 
were  all  dead  or  dispersed,  and  when  the  hands  of  the  victors 
were  laid  nefariously  upon  the  Irish  Constitution,  Grattan 
once  more  made  his  appearance  in  pohtical  life.  History 
does  not  offer  a  more  tragic  or  a  more  affecting  scene  than 
that  in  which  Grattan,  risen  from  a  sick  bed  and  his  emaci- 
ated form  habited  in  the  almost  sacred  uniform  of  the 
Volunteers,  made  his  last  appeal  to  liberty  in  the  Parlia- 
ment of  which  he  was  in  so  great  a  degree  the  creator. 

After  the  passing  of  the  act  of  Union,  Grattan  once  again 
sought  in  private  life  repose  for  an  enfeebled  body  and  for 


HENR  V  GRA  TTAN.  91 

a  mind  distracted  by  the  sufferings  of  his  country.  He 
was  not,  however,  suffered  to  remain  very  long  in  seclusion. 
The  assurance  that  he  could  still  render  his  country  service 
was  enough  to  induce  him  to  re-enter  public  life.  In  1805 
he  entered  the  English  Parliament  as  the  representative  of 
a  small  English  constituency,  and  in  the  following  year  he 
was  elected  member  for  Dublin.  The  rest  of  his  life  was 
devoted  to  serving  with  unwearying  patience  and  devotion 
the  cause  of  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  in  that  service  he 
breathed  his  last. 


HENRY    FLOOD. 

When  Grattan  lay  upon  his  death-bed  after  his  last  heroic 
attempt  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  Catholics  at  Westminster, 
some  of  his  latest  words  were  uttered  in  generous  praise  of 
the  man  who  had  been  his  closest  friend  and  fiercest  enemy; 
who  had  been  for  long  his  rival  in  oratory  and  in  the  affec- 
tions of  the  Irish  people;  who  was  almost  his  peer  in  genius 
— Henry  Flood.  Grattan  had  outlived  Flood  by  the  length 
of  nearly  a  generation  of  men;  unlike  to  many  statesmen, 
he  had  outlived,  also,  the  passions  and  animosities  of  his 
hot  manhood,  and  could  afford,  in  his  ultimate  hour,  to 
speak  with  decorous  admiration  of  the  man  whom  he  had 
once  confronted  pistol  in  hand,  whom  he  had  more  than 
once  believed  it  to  be  his  duty  to  denounce  with  all  the 
vehemence  and  all  the  vigor  of  which  he  was  capable. 

Henry  Flood  was  born  near  Kilkenny  in  the  year  1732, 
an  uneventful  year  which  his  birth  makes  eventful.  Like 
Grattan,  he  shone  for  a  season  in  the  walls  of  Trinity,  but 
he  chose  to  complete  his  education  by  the  Isis  instead  of 
by  the  Liffey,  and  coming  to  England  he  passed  some  time 
in  that  scholastic  region  where  "  the  warm  green-muffled 
Cumnor  hills"  behold  the  towers  of  Oxford  and  Bagley 
Wood,  and  Hincksey  Ridge,  and  distant  Wychwood,  and 
*'the  forest  ground  called  Thessaly."  While  Flood  was  at 
Trinity,  a  wealthy  young  man,  of  good  family  and  influen- 
tial connections,  with  a  future  opening  easily  and  attractively 
out  before  him,  there  was  a  young  sizar  on  the  books  of 
the  college  of  whom  he  probably  knew  nothing  and  of  whom 
the  world  was  destined  to  hear  much.     There  could  hardly 


HENRY  FLOOD.  93 

be  two  careers  more  widely  differentiated  by  destiny  than 
that  of  the  son  of  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench  in 
Ireland,  rich,  well-favored,  surrounded  by  friends  and  ad- 
mirers, and  the  poor,  wild,  reckless,  good-humored  lad  from 
the  pleasant  plain  of  Longford,  who  was  always  penniless  and 
always  merry  and  always  idle — and  whose  face,  so  grimly 
sealed  with  smallpox,  was  always  bright  with  humor  and 
tender  with  pathos.  While  Henry  Flood  was  enriching  his 
mind  and  ennobling  his  style  in  the  classic  shades  of  Oxford 
or  the  learned  retirement  of  the  Temple,  Oliver  Goldsmith 
was  enjoying  that  "  thrifty  shilling  "  revel  which  was  so  dis- 
astrously interrupted,  or  dreaming  of  American  emigration, 
or  listening  with  an  author's  pride  in  his  heart  and  an 
author's  very  scant  remuneration  in  his  pocket  to  his  own 
songs  sung  by  itinerant  ballad-mongers  at  the  College  gates. 
Fortune  was  all  smiles  and  roses  for  the  one,  all  frowns  for 
the  other.  Their  lots  were  unlike  in  all  particulars;  but  the 
goal  of  both  was  the  same,  and  both  attained  it,  for  both 
alike  had,  if  nothing  else  in  common,  the  common  privilege 
of  genius.  The  rich  young  gentleman  and  the  poor  young 
sizar  had  no  connection  within  the  confines  of  Trinity;  but 
they  were  destined  alike  to  attain  in  widely  differing  ways 
to  fame  and  honor  and  an  abiding  place  in  the  memory  of 
their  country.  Destiny  has  reversed  their  two  positions, 
and  the  poor  sizar  is  more  famous  than  the  colleague  who 
seemed  so  high  above  him. 

In  1759  while  Goldsmith  was  struggling  in  London,  writ- 
ing "The  Life  of  Voltaire"  and  bringing  out  the  Bee  in 
miserable  lodgings,  Flood  entered  Parliament  as  member 
for  Kilkenny.  He  was  then  but  twenty-seven  years  of  age, 
singularly  good-looking,  well  trained  in  mind  and  body  for 
the  political  life  on  which  he  was  launched.  His  Oxford 
hours  had  been  devoted  chiefly  to  the  study  of  oratory, 
varied  by  the  somewhat  ineffectual  pursuit  of  poetry.     Two 


94  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

years  after  his  election  he  married  Lady  Frances  Maria 
Beresford,  a  wealthy  match,  which  secured  to  him  absolute 
independence  to  follow  out  his  political  career. 

The  Parliament  which  Flood  entered  was  one  of  the  most 
eccentrically-composed,  most  circumscribed,  most  corrupt 
legislative  assemblies  that  the  ingenuity  of  man  has  ever 
devised.  To  begin  w4th:  No  Roman  Catholic  could  sit  in 
Parliament.  No  Roman  Catholic  could  even  record  his  vote 
for  a  Protestant  member.  The  Roman  Catholics  were  as 
absolutely  unrepresented  as  if  they  did  not  exist;  and  yet 
they  made  up  the  vast  majority  of  the  population  which  the 
Irish  Parliament  tried  to  govern  or  misgovern,  and  by  an 
amazing  fiction  was  supposed  to  represent.  "  The  borough 
system,"  says  Mr.  Lecky,  "which  had  been  chiefly  the 
work  of  the  Stuarts — no  less  than  forty  boroughs  having 
been  created  by  James  I.  alone — had  been  developed  to 
such  an  extent  that  out  of  the  300  members  who  composed 
the  Parliament" — Mr.  Lecky  is,  of  course,  speaking  of  the 
Lower  House — "  216  were  returned  for  boroughs  or  manors. 
Of  these  borough  members  200  were  elected  by  100  in- 
dividuals and  nearly  50  by  10.  According  to  a  secret  re- 
port drawn  up  by  the  Irish  Government  fOt  Pitt  in  1874, 
Lord  Shannon  at  that  time  returned  no  less  than  16  mem- 
bers, the  Ponsonby  family  14,  Lord  Hillsborough  9,  and 
the  Duke  of  Lienster  7."  That  borough  system  was  the 
successful  means  of  corrupting  both  Houses.  James  I.  had 
been  earnestly  remonstrated  with  for  calling  forty  boroughs 
into  existence  at  one  blow,  and  we  have  it  on  the  authority 
of  Hely  Hutchison  that  the  King  replied:  "I  have  made 
40  boroughs.  Suppose  I  had  made  400 — the  more  the 
merrier."  A  pleasant,  statesmanlike,  truly  Stuart  way  of 
looking  at  all  things,  which  was  destined  to  prove  fatal  to 
the  Stuarts  and  to  nobler  hearts  and  heads  than  theirs.  Bor- 
ough owners  who  returned  supple  lieges  to  the  Irish  Parlia- 


HENR  V  FLOOD.  95 

ment  generally  found  their  reward  in  a  peerage.  Thus  with 
a  simplicity  of  corruption  the  two  Houses  were  undermined 
at  once,  for  it  is  said  that  some  half  a  hundred  peers  nomi- 
nated no  less  than  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  members 
of  the  Lower  House.  It  was  in  this  rotten  assembly  that 
Flood  now  found  himself;  it  was  this  same  assembly,  that, 
thanks  in  a  great  degree,  to  his  genius  and  his  labors,  was 
destined  to  rise  for  a  time  out  of  its  slough,  and  shine  for  a 
while  resplendent  in  the  eyes  of  all  men.  The  Irish  Parha- 
ment  was  like  one  of  those  buried  cities  dear  to  Irish  legend 
which  lie  beneath  the  waters  of  some  legend-haunted  lake. 
The  dark  waters  of  corruption  covered  it;  there  came  a 
moment  when  those  waters  fell  away  and  revealed  an  ancient 
institution,  defaced,  indeed,  but  still  honorable  and  impos- 
ing; then  the  engulfing  waves  closed  over  it  again,  and  it 
vanished — but  not  forever. 

The  first  person  against  whom  Hercules  Flood  flung  him- 
self in  his  effort  with  the  Augean  Stable  of  the  Legion  Club 
was  that  strange  ecclesiastic,  famous  among  the  infamous. 
Primate  Stone.  The  grandson  of  a  jailer,  he  might  have 
deserved  admiration  for  his  rise  if  he  had  not  carried  with 
him  into  the  high  places  of  his  Church  a  spirit  stained  by 
most  of  the  crimes  over  which  his  ancestor  was  appointed 
warder.  In  an  age  of  corrupt  politics  he  was  conspicuous 
as  a  corrupt  politician;  in  a  profligate  age  he  was  eminent 
for  profligacy.  In  the  basest  days  of  the  Roman  Empire 
he  would  have  been  remarkable  for  the  variety  of  his  sins. 
The  grace  of  his  person,  which  caused  him  to  be  styled  in 
savage  mockery  as  '*  the  beauty  of  hoUness,"  coupled  with 
his  ingenuity  in  pandering  to  the  passions  of  his  friends, 
would  have  made  him  a  welcome  satellite  at  the  court  of  a 
late  Eoman  emperor. 

Flood  soon  found  himself  at  the  head  of  what  may  be 
called  the  Opposition  in  the  Irish  Parliament.     It  hardly 


96  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

existed  as  a  serious  Opposition  until  Flood's  genius  and 
capacity  for  leadership  welded  it  together  into  something 
like  a  homogeneous  whole.  Before  Flood's  time  the  Op- 
position, such  as  it  was,  was  made  up  chiefly  of  Jacobite 
adherents,  still  dreaming  in  a  dim  kind  of  purposeless  way 
dreams  of  a  possible  Stuart  restoration  which  the  lessons  of 
1 7 15  and  1745  had  not  quite  cured  them  of,  and  of  a  small 
number  of  disinterested  and  patriotic  men  who  struggled 
as  best  they  might  against  the  overwhelming  injustice  and 
corruption  which  they  faced.  These  men  Flood  rallied. 
These  men,  proudly  accepting  the  title  which  their  enemies 
scornfully  gave  them  of  the  *' Patriots,"  followed  Flood 
zealously,  and  some  of  the  oldest  and  basest  privileges  of 
the  Parliament  began  to  reel  under  the  sturdy  blows  of  the 
newly  inspired  Opposition.  Flood's  best  ally  in  his  efforts 
was  the  man  whose  addresses  a  few  years  before  had  been 
burned  by  the  common  hangman,  who  had  been  obliged  to 
fly  for  safety  into  England,  whom  Johnson  had  hailed  as 
"the  confessor  of  liberty,"  and  who  now  by  Flood's  side  in 
Parliament  is  about  to  render  the  cause  of  Irish  liberty 
sterling  service  by  the  publication  of  the  Freema7i' s  Journal^ 
Samuel  Lucas. 

Some  ten  years  of  persistent  but  unsuccessful  struggling 
against  the  evils  of  the  Irish  Parliament  resulted  at  last 
under  the  vice-royalty  of  Lord  Townshend  in  a  distinct  tri- 
umph for  the  Patriotic  party.  Up  to  that  time  the  Irish 
Parliament,  unless  specially  dissolved  by  the  sovereign, 
lasted  for  the  whole  reign,  and  George  II. 's  Parliament  was 
in  existence  for  no  less  than  three  and  thirty  years — more 
than  a  generation  of  men.  In  1768,  however,  the  duration 
of  Parliament  was  limited  to  eight  years,  and  the  enthusiasm 
which  the  measure  provoked  lent  a  temporary  lustre  to  Lord 
Townshend's  Administration.  Lord  Townshend — he  was 
the  brother  of   that  Townshend  who  made  the  celebrated 


HENRY  FLOOD.  97 

"  champagne  "  speech — had  an  important  mission  to  fulfil, 
and  a  measure  of  popularity  was  of  great  importance  to  aid 
him  in  fulfilling  it.  The  Irish  nobility,  with  all  their  faults 
— and  they  had  many  and  grievous — formed  what  was  in  a 
measure  an  independent  Irish  party.  They  might  be  hungry 
of  gain,  avaricious  of  place  and  profit,  corrupt,  but  they  in 
a  measure  held  together  and  maintained  the  independence 
of  the  Irish  Parliament.  That  independence  Lord  Town- 
shend  was  commissioned  to  break  up  and  destroy,  but  his 
efforts  only  broke  up  his  own  administration  and  destroyed 
his  short  popularity.  "  Baratariana  "  literally  blew  him  out 
of  the  island.  Flood's  ready  pen  counted  for  much  in  the 
merits  of  "  Baratariana."  His  style  was  so  much  admired 
that  his  name  has  been  included  amongst  the  many  candi- 
dates for  the  honor  of  having  written  the  "  Letters  of 
Junius. "  It  is  certain  that  Flood  did  not  write  the  "  Letters 
of  Junius,"  but  he  rendered  his  country  a  far  greater  service 
in  writing  the  "  Letters  of  Snydercombe  "  in  the  "  Barata- 
riana Papers,"  which  pulverized  Lord  Townshend. 

In  the  construction  of  *'  Baratariana"  Flood  had  two  col- 
leagues; one.  Sir  Hercules  Langrishe,  a  man  of  much  merit, 
whose  name  is  not  deeply  written  in  history;  the  other,  the 
greatest  Irish  statesman  of  his  age,  Henry  Grattan.  Grattan 
and  Flood  were  at  the  "Baratariana"  epoch  the  closest 
friends.  In  spite  of  the  disparity  between  their  ages,  for 
Flood  was  some  eighteen  years  older  than  Grattan,  they  had 
formed  a  warm  attachment,  based  upon  the  similarity  of 
their  tastes,  the  kinship  of  their  genius,  their  common  love 
for  their  country.  But  what  might  have  been  one  of  the 
most  famous  friendships  in  the  world  became  shortly  after 
the  "  Baratariana"  epoch  one  of  the  most  famous  enmities 
in  the  world.  Of  the  quarrel  and  its  cause  I  have  already 
spoken. 

The  rise  of  the  Volunteers  and  the  repeal  of  the  Sixth 
4 


98  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

Act  of  George  I.  had  given  triumph  into  Grattan's  hands. 
But  at  the  moment,  when  the  desires  of  the  patriot  party- 
had  been  apparently  fulfilled,  the  popularity  of  Grattan,  by 
a  curious  example  of  the  law  of  historical  reaction,  began 
to  wane,  and  that  of  Flood,  which  had  clouded  over  ever 
since  his  acceptance  of  office  from  Lord  Harcourt's  hands, 
began  to  wax  anew.  The  difference  of  opinion  between  the 
two  great  leaders  is  eminently  characteristic  of  their  respec- 
tive natures.  Grattan  maintained  that  by  the  repeal  of  the 
Declaratory  Act,  England  had  sufficiently  and  practically- 
abandoned  her  supremacy  over  the  Irish  Parliament.  Flood 
maintained  that  the  mere  repeal  of  the  Declaratory-  Act  was 
not  enough  without  a  formal  renunciation  of  the  principle 
upon  which  that  Declaratory  Act  had  been  based.  Here 
Grattan  showed  a  certain  generous  confidence  in  his  op- 
ponents which  Flood's  shrewder  sense  taught  him  was  mis- 
placed. Grattan,  too,  was  convinced  of  the  imperative 
necessity  of  immediately  dissolving  and  dispersing  the 
volunteers.  Their  work,  he  contended,  had  been  happily 
accomplished;  their  further  existence  would  be  a  standing 
Praetorian  menace  to  the  independence  of  Parliament  and 
the  liberties  of  the  people.  Flood,  on  the  other  hand,  urged 
that  Ireland  had  not  yet  accomplished  much,  that  her  inde- 
pendent parliament  was  in  sore  need  of  reform,  and  that  a 
nation  in  arms  was  in  the  only  position  in  which  it  could 
reasonably  hope  to  accomplish  that  reform  in  the  face  of  so 
many  and  so  powerful  antagonists.  Here  again  Grattan's 
was  the  more  generous,  Flood's  the  shrewder  view  of  the 
situation.  Reviewing  the  opinions  of  the  two  men,  it  is 
difficult  to  avoid  the  impression  that  it  would  have  been 
happier  for  Ireland  if  Flood  had  carried  his  point,  while  it 
is  scarcely  less  difficult  not  to  feel  greater  admiration  for 
the  loftier  theories  of  Grattan.  If  the  world  had  been  all 
Grattans,  then  Grattan's  pure  and  high-minded  principles 


HENR  Y  FLOOD,  99 

would  have  been  best  for  the  welfare  of  the  country.  But 
as  the  world  contained  only  one  Grattan,  it  is  ten  thousand 
pities  that  the  advice  of  Flood  was  not  followed  and  that  the 
Volunteers  were  not  kept  in  existence,  at  least  until  some 
of  the  most  crying  needs  of  reform  were  satisfied.  It  is  one 
of  those  cases  in  which,  while  the  event  proved  Flood  to 
have  been  in  the  right,  we  could  wish  for  the  honor  of 
humanity  that  time  should  have  justified  Grattan.  Mr. 
Lecky  thoroughly  supports  Flood.  "  Had  he  succeeded," 
he  says,  *'  he  would  have  placed  the  independence  of  Ireland 
on  the  broad  basis  of  the  people's  will;  he  would  have  for- 
feited and  completed  the  glorious  work  that  he  had  himself 
begun,  and  he  would  have  averted  a  series  of  calamities 
which  have  not  even  yet  spent  their  force.  We  should  then 
never  have  known  the  long  night  of  corruption  that  overcast 
the  splendor  of  Irish  liberty.  The  blood  of  1798  might 
never  have  flowed.  The  Legislative  Union  would  never 
have  been  consummated,  or  if  there  had  been  a  union,  it 
would  have  been  effected  by  the  will  of  the  people,  and  not 
by  the  treachery  of  their  representatives,  and  it  would  have 
been  remembered  only  with  gratitude  or  with  content!  " 
Let  me  observe  in  passing  how  far  a  cry  it  is  from  the  Mr. 
Lecky  who  wrote  this  passage  and  who  has  so  strong  a  re- 
spect for  the  "  Will  of  the  People,"  to  the  Mr.  Lecky  who 
is  the  unreasoning  and  excited  champion  of  Loyal  and 
Patriotic  Union  platforms. 

After  the  failure  of  his  Reform  Bill  and  the  disbandment 
of  the  Volunteers,  Flood  retired  from  the  Irish  Parliament 
in  despair,  and,  crossing  the  sea,  sought  and  found  a  seat 
in  the  EngUsh  Parliament.  But,  as  Grattan  said,  **  he  was 
an  oak  of  the  forest,  too  great  and  too  old  to  be  transplanted 
at  fifty."  The  prematurely  aged  man,  with  his  countenance 
disfigured  by  disease,  and  his  temperament  embittered  by 
long  years  of  unpopularity,  misunderstanding  and   strife, 


100  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

was  a  very  different  being  from  the  handsome,  easy- 
tempered,  happy-minded  young  man  who,  a  quarter  of  a 
century  before,  had  entered  the  Irish  Parhament  under 
such  favorable  auspices.  His  first  speech  in  the  English 
House  of  Commons  was,  unhappily,  made  in  an  Indian 
debate  upon  a  theme  of  which  he  knew  little,  and  though 
the  House  soon  crowded  to  hear  the  renowned  orator,  the 
effect  was  disappointing,  and  Flood's  discomfiture  was  ren- 
dered more  painful  by  a  fierce  and  contemptuous  attack 
which  was  made  upon  him  by  another  member  the  moment 
he  sat  down.  After  that  Flood  spoke  seldom  in  Parliament, 
and  after  a  while  he  retired  from  political  life  altogether  a 
disappointed,  broken  man.  He  died  at  his  estate  at  Farm- 
ley,  near  Kilkenny,  on  the  2d  of  December,  1791.  He  may 
be  considered  happy  in  escaping  even  by  this  too  early  death 
from  the  horrors  of  Ninety-eight  and  the  degradation  of  the 
Union,  horrors  and  degradation  which  his  shrewdness  fore- 
saw, and  which  his  policy  would  have  avoided 


EDMUND   BURKE. 

When  Oliver  Goldsmith  was  a  sizar  at  Trinity,  and  Henry 
Flood  was  a  student  at  Oxford,  a  young  man  named  Ed- 
mund Burke  was  pursuing  knowledge  in  many  directions 
within  the  walls  of  the  Dublin  University.  It  is  conceiva- 
ble that  collegiate  authority  would  have  looked  with  a  more 
hopeful  eye  upon  a  youth  prompter  to  pursue  the  beaten 
track  of  academic  culture,  less  eager  to  obey  his  swift  and 
shifting  impulses,  less  consistently  inconsistent  in  the  courses 
of  his  study.  It  is  almost  certain  that  collegiate  authority 
would  have  shaken  its  head  in  solemn  and  scornful  denega- 
tion  if  it  had  been  assured  by  any  voice  of  audacious  pro- 
phecy that  Burke,  of  Arran-quay,  would  prove  to  be  the 
greatest  man  who  ever  trod  the  Trinity  quadangles,  and 
that  in  the  fullness  of  time  a  grateful  country  would  erect 
his  effigy  in  enduring  bronze  in  the  face  of  the  venerable 
walls  which  had  sheltered  his  youthful  genius.  That  col- 
legiate authority  should  not  be  impeccable  need  not  sur- 
prise us.  We  can  imagine  what  it  would  have  thought  of 
the  ballad-making  boy  from  Ballymahon,  the  Lazarus  of  its 
Dives-generosity  of  learning,  whose  statue,  too,  should  one 
day  adorn  its  precincts,  and  we  can  estimate  its  opinion  of 
one  of  the  two  great  contemporaries  by  its  disdainful  in- 
difference of  the  other.  Wise  academic  authority  is  scarcely 
to  be  blamed.  A  college  council  is  not  a  synod  of  prophets. 
It  can  but  judge  according  to  its  lights,  and  can  hardly  be 
censured,  if  it  may  be  pitied,  for  failing  to  discern  the  token 
of  true  genius  in  the  assiduous,  if  irresponsible,  student 
named  Burke,  and  the  idle,  verse-making  sizar  named  Gold- 
smith, 


102  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN, 

The  house  is  still  shown  on  Arran-quay  where  Burke  was 
born.  The  date  of  that  birth  is  and  must,  presumably,  re- 
main uncertain.  It  varies  according  to  different  authorities 
as  to  the  day  from  the  ist  to  the  12th  of  January,  and  as  to 
the  year  from  1728  to  1729.  When  he  was  nearly  twelve 
years  old  he  was  sent  to  school  at  Ballitore,  some  thirty 
miles  from  Dublin.  For  his  schoolmaster,  Abraham 
Shackleton,  a  Quaker  from  Yorkshire,  the  boy  conceived  an 
admiration  and  attachment  such  as  the  pupil  too  seldom 
feels,  or  is  allowed  to  feel,  for  the  pedagogue.  A  full 
generation  later,  when  the  simple,  high-minded  Quaker 
schoolmaster  died,  and  the  boy  who  loved  him  had  become 
a  famous  statesman,  Burke  expresses  the  most  feeling  grati- 
tude to  and  admiration  for  his  old  preceptor.  The  affec- 
tion which  Burke  felt  for  Abraham  Shackleton  he  felt  also 
for  his  son  Richard.  Throughout  Burke's  youth  Richard 
Shackleton  was  his  closest  friend  and  confidant,  and  the  in- 
timacy proved  more  enduring  than  the  friendship  of  the 
schoolroom  and  the  confederacy  of  collegiate  days  always 
prove. 

The  actual  human  daily  life  of  Burke  from  its  earliest 
hours  in  Arran-quay  to  those  latest  hours  at  Beaconsfield, 
when  the  tranquil  soul  of  the  dying  statesman  was  soothed 
by  the  thoughts  of  Addison  on  immortality,  cannot  be  called 
eventful;  the  life  itself  is  one  of  the  greatest  events  in  human 
history.  The  boy,  fired  by  a  noble  ambition,  is  somewhat 
at  feud  with  his  father,  a  worthy,  tetchy  man,  whose  sober 
brain  has  never  bewildered  itself  with  the  thought  that  he 
has  brought  into  the  world  an  intellectual  giant,  and  who 
only  regards  his  son  as  a  purposeless,  eccentric  young  man, 
whose  fonvard  ways  are  calculated  to  grizzle  the  paternal 
hairs  with  needless  anxiety.  In  London  the  youth  loves 
law  platonically,  and  literature  passionately.  He  praises 
the  one,  but  he  serves  the  other,  with  uncertainty  and  ten- 


EDMUND  BURKE.  103 

tatively  at  first.  He  parodies  Bolingbroke,  to  begin  with. 
Speculations  upon  reason  and  taste  lead  him  later  to  the 
production  of  the  famous  "  Essay  on  the  Sublime  and  the 
Beautiful,"  which  had  the  effect,  first,  of  placating  an  angry 
parent,  and  secondly,  of  winning  the  admiration  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  who  even  found  it  necessary  to  argue  in  defence 
of  the  anonymous  volume  with  the  young  Irish  gentleman 
who  ventured  to  deprecate  its  merits,  and  in  whom  stout 
Samuel  did  not  dream  that  he  beheld  the  author  whom  he 
was  pleased  in  his  Leonine  fashion  to  champion.  The 
young  man's  health  breaks  down.  A  wise  and  kindly 
physician  heals  his  bodily  ailments;  the  physician's  fair  and 
good  daughter  teaches  him  to  love  and  be  loved;  and  in 
1757  Burke  faces  the  world  again,  a  married  man,  poor  and 
hopeful.  Then  comes  *' Annual  Register  "  editorship  appli^ 
cation,  happily  unsuccessful,  for  consulship  at  Madrid, 
from  which  the  world  might  have  gained  some  marvellous 
reports  on  the  condition  of  Spain  in  the  eighteenth  century 
and  lost  a  literature;  secretaryship  to  William  Gerard  Ham- 
ilton; secretaryship  to  Rockingham;  and  finally  return  to 
Parliament  as  member  for  John  Hampden's  borough  of 
Wendover.  His  career  as  a  statesman  illuminates  the 
eighteenth  century  with  a  peculiar  and  especial  lustre.  As 
the  brightest  light  that  man,  the  child  of  Prometheus,  can 
manufacture  —  whitest  limelight,  or  the  flashing  diamonds 
of  electric  fire — only  show  black  against  the  disc  of  the  sun, 
so  all  the  talent,  genius,  greatness  of  the  eighteenth  century 
dim  and  darken  when  contrasted  with  the  incomparable 
splendor  of  Burke's  talents,  genius,  greatness.  The  rest 
of  the  tale  is  familiar.  Thirty  years  of  public  life,  con- 
spicuous in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  a  generation  passed  only 
in  earnest  service  of  rectitude,  justice,  liberty,  of  public 
virtue  and  private  morality,  a  career  without  a  stain,  a 
record  whose  very  errors  cannot  be  condemned  as  faults, 


104  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

because  they  spring  from  an  unvarying  purity  of  purpose 
and  an  unalterable  nobility  of  ideal.  We  may  say  of  the 
blemishes  that  honest  criticism  must  recognize  in  Burke — 
we  are  not  thinking  now  of  the  false  and  foolish  slanders 
which  malignity  coined  and  which  perverse  hostility  made 
current — we  may  say  of  his  blemishes  what  the  Triumvir 
Lepidus,  who  has  said  wiser  things  for  a  foolish  man  than 
any  other  child  of  fancy,  says  of  his  colleague,  the  wild 
Anthony: 

*'  His  faults  in  him  seem  as  the  spots  in  heaven 
More  fiery  by  night's  blackness." 

**I  hope,"  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  in  the  course  of  the 
speech  in  which  he  introduced  the  Home  Rule  Bill,  "  I  hope 
that  we  shall  hear  a  great  deal  about  Mr.  Burke  in  this 
debate,"  and  Mr.  John  Morley,  sitting  by  the  Prime 
Minister,  nodded  enthusiastic  approval.  The  wish  of  the 
Prime  Minister  is  likely  to  be  granted.  We  are  happily 
sure  to  hear  much  of  Mr.  Burke  both  in  the  debates  within 
the  walls  of  Westminster  and  in  the  daily  discussion  outside 
those  walls,  and  the  more  we  hear  of  -Mr.  Burke  the  better 
it  will  be  for  all  such  debates  and  discussions.  Friends 
and  foes  alike  are  turning  eagerly  to  his  speeches,  to  his 
pamphlets,  to  his  essays.  His  writings  are  an  arsenal  to 
which  all  men  turn  in  the  hope  of  finding  some  weapon  that 
will  strengthen  their  hands,  some  shield  that  will  assuredly 
turn  the  point  and  blunt  the  edge  of  the  adversary.  Burke's 
volumes  are  for  the  moment  converted  into  a  species  of 
sortes  virgtliance  which  every  man  consults  at  random  in  the 
hope  of  finding  some  sentence,  some  apothegm,  some 
argument  especially  suited  to  his  case.  Our  enemies  ran- 
sack his  volumes  in  the  fond  hope  of  discovering  some  pas- 
sage which  may  be  distorted  into  an  appearance  of  prophetic 
condemnation  of  the  statesman,  who,  animated  by  the  spirit 


EDMUND  BURKE.  105 

of  justice  and  the  love  for  liberty,  is  listening  to  the  voice 
and  meeting  the  wishes  of  the  Irish  people.  Our  friends 
seek,  and  do  not  seek  in  vain,  support,  comfort,  and  en- 
couragement in  their  honorable  task  of  succoring  an  op- 
pressed nationality,  in  the  words  of  him  who  truly  uttered 
nothing  base. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  why  the  words  of  the  Prime 
Minister  should  have  afforded  special  satisfaction  to  Mr. 
Morley.  To  Edmund  Burke,  Mr.  Morley  has  offered 
something  as  nearly  approaching  to  unqualified  admiration 
as  it  is  possible  for  his  intensely  critical  nature  to  give. 
He  has  studied  Burke  with  the  care,  the  patience,  and  the 
enthusiasm  which  men  seldom  bestow  on  any  author  who 
has  not  the  distinction  of  being  embalmed  in  a  dead  lan- 
guage; he  has  written  books  upon  him  once  and  again;  he 
has  to  a  very  large  extent  moulded  the  course  of  his  public 
life  as  a  journalist  and  as  a  politician  in  accordance  with 
Burke's  thoughts  and  teachings.  It  is  gratifying  and  it  is 
curiously  appropriate  to  think  that  the  only  English  states- 
man who  in  any  real  sense  could  be  said  to  deserve  the 
title  of  *'  Irish  "  secretary  should  have  fed  his  mind  and 
fostered  his  intellect  so  largely  with  the  wisdom,  the  genius, 
the  polity,  and  the  philosophy  of  the  greatest  Irishman  who 
ever  devoted  his  life  and  his  abilities  to  the  public  service 
of  a  political  life.  Mr.  Morley  has  so  much  identified 
himself  with  the  study  and  knowledge  of  Edmund  Burke 
in  these  days  that  friends  of  his  have  been  known  laugh- 
ingly to  declare  that  Mr.  Morley  regards  Burke  as  his  own 
peculiar  and  private  property,  upon  which  property  let  tres- 
passers beware  to  tread.  If  Mr.  Morley  did  harbor  such  a 
thought  he  might  almost  be  excused  for  it,  for  he  has  done 
much  to  make  the  existing  generation  honor  Burke  as  Burke 
deserved  to  be  honored,  and  he  might  well  feel  something 


106  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

like  personal   pride  in   endorsing  the   Premier's   emphatic 
wish  that  we  should  hear  much  of  Mr.  Burke. 

No  author  more  profoundly  influenced  the  thought  of  his 
time,  no  author  is  likely  to  exercise  a  more  enduring  in- 
fluence upon  succeeding  generations,  than  Edmund  Burke. 
It  has  been  contended,  and  not  without  excellent  show  of 
reason,  that  as  an  orator  Burke  is  not  merely  in  the  first 
rank,  but  that  he  is  himself  the  first,  that  he  stands  alone 
without  a  rival,  without  a  peer,  and  that  none  of  the  boasted 
masterpieces  of  antiquity  can  even  be  said  to  contest  his 
unquestionable  supremacy.  Such  enthusiastic  advocacy 
may,  perhaps,  be  admitted  to  belong  to  the  fervor  of  par- 
tisanship; at  least,  it  is  in  no  sense  necessary  to  Burke's 
fame  that  the  fame  of  others  should  be  in  any  wise  degraded. 
It  is  suflicient  praise  to  say  that  Burke  is  one  of  the  greatest 
orators  the  world  has  ever  held;  to  argue  that  he  is  superior 
to  Demosthenes  on  the  one  hand,  or  to  Cicero  on  the  other, 
is  to  maintain  an  argument  very  much  on  a  par  with  that 
which  it  amused  Burke  himself  to  maintain  when  he  con- 
tended for  the  supremacy  of  the  ^neid  over  the  Iliad.  It 
is  quite  enough  to  say,  that  it  may  be  said  almost  without 
fear  of  contradiction,  that  Burke  is  probably  the  greatest 
orator  who  ever  spoke  in  the  English  language.  Certainly 
I  can  at  this  moment  think  of  no  nobler  passage  of  human 
and  mundane  eloquence  than  that  in  which  Burke  concluded 
his  speech  at  the  Guildhall  in  Bristol  in  the  year  1780,  and 
which  I  make  no  more  apology  for  quoting  now  than  I 
should  for  asking  a  man  to  admire  a  splendid  sunset  on  the 
ground  that  he  had  often  seen  the  sun  to  sleep  before.  It 
is  the  close  of  a  long  speech  in  which  Burke  has  traversed 
all  the  political  field;  he  has  expressed  his  gratitude  to  the 
electors  for  having  "  set  me  in  a  place  where  I  could  lend 
the  slightest  help  to  great  and  laudable  designs."  He 
would  be  glad  to  lend  that  help  still  in  that  way  if  it  be 


EDMUND  BURKE,  107 

their  will.  '*  If  I  have  taken  my  part  with  the  best  of  men 
in  the  best  of  their  actions  I  can  shut  the  book;  I  might 
wish  to  read  a  page  or  two  more,  but  this  is  enough  for  my 
measure  —  I  have  not  lived  in  vain,"  Then  comes  the 
concluding  passage,  perhaps  the  loftiest  apologia  pro  vita 
sua  ever  made  by  a  public  man  in  the  face  of  his  fellow- 
men.  A  hundred  years  have  come  and  gone  since  those 
words  were  spoken,  but  they  ring  in  our  ears  to-day  as  clearly 
as  if  we  too  had  stood  in  that  hushed  crowd  forgetting  the 
odd  delivery  and  the  ungainly  actions  of  the  speaker  in  rapt 
admiration  of  the  spoken  words. 

"  And  now,  gentlemen,  on  this  serious  day,  when  I  come 
as  it  were  to  make  up  my  account  with  you,  let  me  take  to 
myself  some  degree  of  honest  pride  on  the  nature  of  the 
charges  that  are  against  me.  I  do  not  stand  here  before 
you  accused  of  venality,  nor  of  neglect  of  duty.  It  has  not 
been  said  that,  in  the  long  period  of  my  service,  I  have  in 
a  single  instance  sacrificed  the  slightest  of  your  interests 
to  my  ambition  or  to  my  fortune.  It  is  not  alleged  that  to 
gratify  any  anger  or  revenge  of  my  own  or  of  my  party,  I 
have  had  a  share  in  wronging  or  oppressing  any  description 
of  men,  Of  any  one  man  in  any  description.  No  !  The 
charges  against  me  are  all  of  kind — that  I  have  pushed  the 
principles  of  general  justice  and  benevolence  too  far;  farther 
than  a  cautious  policy  would  warrant;  and  farther  than  the 
opinions  of  many  would  go  along  with  me.  In  every  accident 
which  may  happen  through  life — in  pain,  in  sorrow,  in  de- 
pression and  distress — I  will  call  to  mind  this  accusation 
and  be  comforted." 

Such  an  accusation  was  worthy  of  the  man;  such  a  recep- 
tion of  the  accusation  reflects  a  glory,  not  merely  upon  tl^e 
man  who  uttered  it,  but  upon  all  the  age  to  which  he  be- 
longed. An  ingenious  and  fanciful  philosopher  of  our  time 
has  quaintly  urged,  as  an  encouragement  to  upright  action, 


'^^ 


108  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

that  every  single  good  deed  raises  the  average  of  human 
virtue  all  over  the  world,  and  thereby  benefits  not  merely 
those  immediately  concerned,  but  all  the  millions  upon  mil- 
lions who  tread  our  earth  and  breathe  our  air.  In  the  same 
way,  such  a  speech,  such  a  pure  and  lofty  expression  of 
public  faith,  lends  a  new  dignity,  not  to  one  man,  one 
country,  or  one  epoch,  but  to  the  whole  history,  to  the  race 
and  to  all  generations  of  men.  The  key-note  to  all  Burke's 
life  is  to  be  found  in  those  high,  courageous  words.  A 
sweet  English  poet  has  said  of  a  very  different  man  that 
"  he  nothing  common  did  or  mean,"  and  the  words  in  their 
loftiest  interpretation  may  be  applied  to  Edmund  Burke. 
He  **  nothing  common  did  or  mean  "  in  all  the  days  of  his 
life;  and  the  lessons  he  has  left  behind  him  are  well  cal- 
culated to  make  men  like  him,with  ambitions  moulded  to  his 
serene  ideals,  of  whom,  too,  it  might— indeed,  must — be 
said,  if  they  follow  his  teachings,  that  they  "  nothing  com- 
mon did  or  mean  "  upon  the  pathway  of  their  lives. 


RICHARD  STEELE. 

Who  that  has  ever  read  Thackeray's  "  Esmond  "forgets  a 
certain  scene  in  quite  the  early  part  of  the  romance  which 
introduces,  with  all  the  light  freedom  of  fiction,  the  bearer 
of  one  of  the  greatest  names  of  the  last  century  ?  My  lord 
of  Castlewood  has  ridden  off  into  outer  darkness;  this  lady, 
with  her  solemn  elderly  finery,  unsuccessfully  masked  by 
her  hastily-assumed  night- rail,  has  wrangled  in  vain  with 
paper-chasing  Captain  Westbury;  little  Harry  Esmond,  the 
page,  is  being  angrily  interrogated  by  Lawyer  Corbet  as  to 
the  meaning  of  certain  words  traced  on  the  half-charred 
manuscript  in  Mr.  Holt's  brazier.  The  words  are  Latin; 
Harry  interprets  them;  they  are  portion  of  a  sermon. 

"  The  lawyer  said:  *  This  boy  is  deeper  than  he  seems; 
who  knows  that  he  is  not  laughing  at  us  ? ' 

"'Let's  have  in  Dick  the  scholar,'  said  Captain  West- 
bury,  laughing,  and  he  called  to  a  trooper  out  of  the  window: 
*  Ho,  Dick  !  come  in  here  and  construe.' 

'*  A  thick-set  soldier,  with  a  square,  good-humored  face, 
came  in  at  the  summons,  saluting  his  officer. 

*'  '  Tell  us  what  this  is,  Dick  ?  '  says  the  lawyer. 

"  *  My  name  is  Steele,  sir,'  says  the  soldier.  '  I  may  be 
Dick  for  my  friends,  but  I  don't  name  gentlemen  of  your 
cloth  among  them.' 

'''Well,  then,  Steele.' 

"  '  Mr.  Steele,  sir,  if  you  please.  When  you  address  a 
gentleman  of  His  Majesty's  Horse  Guards  be  pleased  not  to 
be  so  familiar.* 

"  '  I  didn't  know,  sir,'  said  the  lawyer. 


110  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

"  '  How  should  you  ?  I  take  it  you  are  not  accustomed  to 
meet  with  gentlemen,'  said  the  trooper. 

"  '  Hold  thy  prate,  and  read  that  bit  of  paper,'  says  West 
bury. 

"  '  'Tis  Latin,'  says  Dick,  glancing  at  it,  and  again  salut- 
ing his  officer,  '  and  from  a  sermon  of  Mr.  Cudworth's,'  and 
he  translated  the  words  pretty  much  as  Henry  Esmond  had 
rendered  them. 

"'What  a  young  scholar  you  are,'  says  the  captain  to 
the  boy. 

'*  *  Depend  on't,  he  knows  more  than  he  tells,'  says  the 
lawyer.  '  I  think  we  will  pack  him  off  in  the  coach  with 
old  Jezebel.' 

"  '  For  construing  a  bit  of  Latin,'  said  the  captain,  very 
good  humoredly. 

"  '  I  would  as  lief  go  there  as  anywhere,'  Harry  Esmond 
said,  simply,  '  for  there  is  nobody  to  care  for  me.'" 

There  must  have  been  something  in  the  child's  voice  or 
in  this  description  of  his  solitude — for  the  captain  looked 
at  him  very  good  naturedly,  and  the  trooper  called  Steele 
put  his  hand  kindly  on  the  lad's  head  and  said  some  words 
in  the  Latin  tongue. 

**  *  What  does  he  say  ? '  says  the  lawyer. 

"  *  Faith,  ask  Dick  yourself,'  cried  Captain  Westbury 

"  *  I  said  I  was  not  ignorant  of  misfortune  myself,  and 
had  learned  to  succor  the  miserable,  and  that's  not  your 
trade,  Mr.  Sheepskin,'  said  the  trooper. 

"  '  You  had  better  leave  Dick  the  Scholar  alone,  Mr. 
Corbet,'  the  captain  said.  And  Harry  Esmond,  always 
touched  by  a  kind  face  and  kind  word,  felt  very  grateful 
to  this  good-natured  champion." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  make  Dick  Steele's  acquaintance 
under  happier  auspices.  The  little  scene,  alas,  never  took 
place,  but  by  the  kindly  art  of  the  novelist  it  is  as  real  to 


RICHARD  STEELE,  111 

us  as  if  it  were  the  soberest  scrap  of  history  ever  inscribed. 
We  see  the  great  grey  towers  of  Castlewood,  the  courtyard 
with  the  fountain  in  the  centre,  and  the  troopers  grouped 
about  it,  their  accoutrements  all  shining  in  the  morning 
sunlight.  The  cool,  dark  room,  where  the  captain  and  the 
lawyer,  the  man  of  the  sword  and  the  man  of  the  robe,  are 
interrogating  little  Harry  Esmond,  and  the  open  window 
through  which  Dick  the  Scholar  lounges,  obedient  to  his 
captain's  call,  and  stands,  a  stalw.art  figure  in  scarlet  and 
gold  lace  and  gleaming  steel,  his  kindly  face  smiling  on  the 
lad,  and  the  soft  words  sounding  strangely  from  the  lips  of 
a  common  trooper,  as  he  translates  them  out  of  the  Latin. 
It  never  happened;  but  it  might  have  happened,  we  may 
even  say  it  ought  to  have  happened.  It  is  as  true  to  history 
as  if  it  had  indeed  occurred,  for  it  is  absolutely  true  to 
nature,  to  the  nature  of  one  of  the  gentlest,  sweetest, 
simplest  of  men,  Richard  Steele. 

What  would  English  literature — especially  English  litera- 
ture in  the  eighteenth  century — be  without  its  Irish  authors  ? 
Run  over  the  list  of  the  greatest  names  of  a  century  strangely 
fruitful  in  great  names  and  you  vvill  find  that  the  majority 
of  them  are  the  names  of  Irishmen.  Swift,  Berkeley,  Gold- 
smith, Burke,  Sterne,  Sheridan — these  are  some  of  those 
whose  names  leap  to  the  lips  the  soonest.  Think  of  Eng- 
lish literature  without  *' Gulliver's  Travels,"  without  the 
"Battle  of  the  Books,"  without  the  "Tale  of  a  Tub." 
Think  of  English  literature  without  the  "  Essay  on  the 
Sublime  and  the  Beautiful,"  without  the  "Letters  on  the 
French  Revolution,"  without  the  "  Thoughts  on  the  Present 
Discontents."  What  would  English  literature  be  without  the 
"Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  "  The  Citizen  of  the  World,"  and 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer?  "  What  in  spite  of  all  their  ter- 
rible defects  would  she  be  without  "  Tristram  Shandy  "  and 
"The  Sentimental  Journey?"     What  without  The  Rivals, 


■"^ 


112  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

The  ScJwolfor  Scandal  and  The  Critic  2  The  fair  fields  of 
English  literature  in  the  last  century  would  seem  dry  and 
barren,  shorn  of  their  chiefest  splendor,  if  the  rare  exotic 
plants  were  to  be  excluded  from  its  growth  and  garner. 
One  name  I  have  purposely  left  out  of  the  list  1  have  just 
enumerated,  and  that  the  name  of  the  subject  of  the  present 
sketch.  I  have  reserved  it  purposely  that  by  isolation  I 
might  lend  a  special  force  to  the  question  I  am  now  about 
to  put — what  would  English  literature,  the  boasted  literature 
of  the  Augustan  days  of  Anne,  be  without  the  genius  and 
the  gentleness,  the  humor  and  the  pity  of  Richard  Steele  ? 

To  such  a  question  the  answer  is  simple,  inevitable.  The 
literature  of  the  reign  of  Anne  would  be  poor,  indeed,  if  it 
did  not  include  within  its  fold  one  of  the  sweetest,  purest, 
most  humorous  essayists  that  ever  lived.  I,  for  my  part, 
much  prefer  Steele  to  Addison.  Between  two  such  men 
choice  is  indeed  difficult;  any  final  and  definite  decision  of 
the  superiority  of  one  over  the  other  simply  impossible. 
The  canons  of  taste  have  not  yet  been  established,  the 
touchstone  has  not  yet  been  tempered  of  a  criticism  which 
shall  authoritatively  dare  to  assert  that  Steele  was  the 
superior  of  Addison  or  Addison  the  superior  of  Steele. 
Seldom  has  the  world  seen  two  men  of  such  rare  parts,  of 
such  fine  culture,  of  such  true  and  tender  humor,  of  such 
high-souled  purity,  working  together  in  common  cause  for 
the  entertainment  and  ennoblement  of  their  fellowmen.  Be- 
tween this  *'  nobler  pair  of  brothers  "  choice  can  be  but  a 
matter  of  individual  taste;  but  for  my  own  part  I  am  glad 
with  all  my  heart  that  my  choice  can  go  out  freely  and  fully 
to  my  countrymen — to  Richard  Steele  of  Dublin  rather  than 
to  Joseph  Addison  of  Millston,  in  Wiltshire.  It  was  the 
genius  of  Steele  which  gave  to  the  English  essay  its  most 
enduring  form,  and  which  made  certain  series  of  weekly 
papers  into  such  a  set  of  classics  as,  perhaps,  no  other  Ian- 


RICHARD  STEELE.  113 

guage  nor  no  other  age  can  boast  the  possession  of.  The 
Tatler^  the  Spectator^  the  Guardian, — these  are  enchanted 
names  in  EngHsh  Hterature;  their  volumes  are  among  the 
most  precious  possessions  of  the  English  language.  What 
Steele  said  himself  of  a  fair  lady  in  an  exquisite  and  famous 
phrase,  the  authorship  of  which  was  quite  recently  and  quite 
unsuccessfully  contended  for  on  behalf  of  Congreve:  "  To 
love  them  is  a  liberal  education."  There  are  certain  books 
or  sets  of  books  on  the  world's  shelves  the  repeated  study 
of  which  is  a  source  of  greater  knowledge  than  a  wider 
range  could  guarantee.  The  Tailer  and  the  Spectator 
must  be  placed  in  that  list  of  royal  books.  You  may  read 
them  again  and  again  and  always  learn  something  new  from 
them,  and  the  learning  will  be  always  good,  the  knowledge 
healthy,  the  lessons  honorable.  There  is  nothing  base, 
common,  evil  In  their  pages.  The  faults  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  those  faults  were  many,  have  not  stained  these 
pages;  their  moral  soundness  is  not  blackened  and  corroded 
by  the  cynicism,  by  the  savage  brutality  which  degrades 
and  disgraced  the  writings  of  other  men  of  that  age  who 
were  undoubtedly  men  of  genius.  It  is  difficult  for  Irish- 
men to  be  proud  of  the  plays  of  Farquhar,  although  happily 
they  contrast  strikingly  with  the  comedies  of  Wycherley  and 
Congreve;  and  there  are  passages,  long  pages,  of  the  writ- 
ings of  Swift  which  cannot  be  thought  of  without  an  angry 
blush  and  a  sick  heart.  But  in  the  golden  pages  of  Steele, 
and  of  those  who  were  ranged  under  Steele's  leadership, 
there  is  no  such  sin  to  be  ashamed  of.  The  Tatler,  the 
Spectato}'  and  the  Guardian  are  sometimes,  though  even  that 
is  seldom,  somewhat  free-spoken  for  our  day,  but  it  must 
be  remembered  that  they,  to  their  honor,  were  behind,  not 
in  advance  of,  the  license  of  their  age  in  this  respect. 

Steele's  prose  is  spotless  enough;  the  lessons  of  his  writ- 
ings serene,  simple,  stainless;  his  efforts  to  reform  the  stage 


114  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

of  his  day  have  been  not  untruly  declared  to  be  more  like 
sermons  than  like  comedies.  There  is  no  harm  hidden  in 
all  the  bright,  kind  humor  of  '^  Isaac  Bickerstaff;"  there  is 
nothing  but  good  to  be  gained  from  the  companionship  of 
**Sir  Roger  de  Coverley."  That  simple,  high-minded 
country  gentleman  deserves  his  place  in  fiction  by  the  side 
of  that  other  knight  who  sought  to  redress  the  world  on  the 
dusty  plains  of  La  Mancha.  I  am  afraid,  however,  that 
Steele's  own  life  does  not  afford  so  bright  an  example  as  the 
heroes  and  he^^roines  of  his  delightful  pages  provide  for  our 
improvement.  Drink  and  debt  were  the  vices  of  the  age, 
vices  the  more  fatal  because  they  were  so  eminently  fashion- 
able, and  because  no  one  with  the  slightest  pretensions  to 
being  considered  modish  abstained  from  indulgence  in  them, 
or,  if  the  best  and  rarest  abstained,  dreamed  of  express- 
ing disapproval  of  more  libertine  minds.  Poor  Steele  was 
always  more  or  less  ambitious  to  be  a  man  of  tone;  he  was 
as  a  natural  consequence  always  more  or  less  in  debt; 
sobriety  was  not  the  most  startling  characteristic  of  his 
private  and  domestic  virtues.  Not,  indeed,  that  he  revelled 
more  desperately  and  riotously  than  many  others  of  his  time, 
or  even  as  desperately  and  riotously  as  some.  But  he  loved 
good-fellowship  and  he  loved  good  wine,  and  both  were  to 
be  had  in  plenty  in  the  London  of  the  early  years  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  Richard  Steele  devoted  himself  to 
both  with  more  devotion  than  was  prudent  or  wholesome 
for  a  man  with  his  way  to  make.  But  prudence  was  never 
a  trait  of  Dick  Steele's  impulsive  nature.  He  was  not 
prudent  when  he  was  a  merry,  restless,  troublesome  boy  at 
Charterhouse — that  same  Charterhouse  which  contemporary 
vandalism  is  now  dreaming  of  destroying,  and  around  whose 
threatened  walls  the  ghost  of  Steele  and  many  other  appeal- 
ing and  illustrious  spectres  may  be  imagined  to  flit  in  re- 
proaching protest  against  sacrilege      He  was  not  what  the 


RICHARD  STEELE.  115 

world  would  call  prudent  when  he  chose  to  cast  his  lot  for 
a  time  with  the  full  privates  of  his  gracious  Majesty's  Life 
Guards,  and  so  met,  or  might  have  met.  Master  Henry- 
Esmond.  He  was  not  prudent  when  he  quarrelled  with,  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  that  august  body  solemnly  expelled 
him  for  his  pamphleteering  pains.  He  was  not  prudent  when 
he  borrowed  that  thousand  pounds  from  his  dear  old  friend, 
hero,  and  mentor,  Joseph  Addison,  and  lost  in  conse- 
quence of  the  further  Imprudence  of  not  paying  it  back  a 
considerable  share  of  that  exemplary,  less  tempestuous  gen- 
tleman's regard;  he  was  not  prudent  in  failing  to  make  the 
most,  as  wiser  and  more  worldly  folk  would  have  done, 
and,  indeed,  did  do,  of  the  Saturnian  age  when  the  elector 
of  Hanover  became  king  of  England,  and  the  German  Jove 
coined  himself  in  golden  favors  of  all  kinds  for  those  who 
had  been  true  to  him  and  the  principle  which  the  monarch 
from  Herrenhausen  represented.  He  was  not  prudent  in 
his  married  life — he  was  married  twice;  was  not  prudent  in 
the  management  of  good  fortune  when  it  came  in  his  way, 
till  at  last  fortune  got  tired  of  smiling  on  him;  he  was  not 
prudent  in  anything.  Too  much  of  his  life  was  passed  in 
the  tavern  and  the  sponging-house;  too  much  of  his  time 
was  given  to  wine  and  wild  company.  But  his  works  remain 
unsullied,  none  of  the  rank  atmosphere  which  sometimes 
surrounded  Steele  the  man,  poisons  the  pages  of  Steele  the 
writer,  or  makes  it  hard  for  us  to  breathe  easily  in  his  fellow- 
ship. A  savage  critic  of  his  day,  slanderous,  foul-mouthed, 
venomous — the  tribe  of  Dennis  is  not  extinct  yet — railed 
and  raved  against  Steele  for  being  an  Irishman.  What  in 
the  surly  eyes  and  cankered  mind  of  Dennis  was  his  chief 
sin  we  may  be  pardoned  for  regarding  as  his  saving  grace. 
It  was  his  Irish  birth  and  his  Irish  blood  which  made  him 
so  gentle,  so  humane,  so  simple  even  in  his  faults  and  fol- 
lies !  it  was  his  Irish  birth  and  blood  which  keep  his  pages 


116  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

pure  and  make  the  lessons  that  he  wrote,  if  not  the  lessons 
that  he  lived,  examples,  patterns,  shining  records  of  moral- 
ity, of  virtue,  of  clean,  good  conduct. 

I  began  these  lines  with  a  quotation  from  Thackeray;  I 
will  bring  them  to  their  conclusion  in  like  manner.  Thack- 
eray was  seldom  gentle  and  rarely  just  to  Ireland,  but  he 
could  appreciate  some  Irish  virtues.  "No  Irishman," 
he  says  once,"  ever  gave  but  with  a  kind  word  and  with  a 
kind  heart." — He  could  sympathize  with  some  Irish  sorrows, 
and  he  dearly  loved  Dick  Steele.  There  is  something  ex- 
oeedingly  tender  and  pathetic  in  the  words  in  which  he  takes 
farewell  of  Steele.  "Alas  for  poor  Dick  Steele."  For 
nobody  else,  of  course.  "There  is  no  manor  woman  in 
our  time  who  makes  fine  projects  and  gives  them  up  from 
idleness  or  want  of  means.  When  duty  calls  upon  us,  we 
no  doubt  are  always  at  home  and  are  ready  to  pay  the  grim 
tax-gatherer.  When  we  are  stricken  with  remorse,  and 
promise  reform,  we  keep  our  promise,  and  are  never  angry 
or  idle  or  extravagant  any  more.  There  are  no  chambers 
in  our  hearts  destined  for  family  friends  and  affections  and 
now  occupied  by  some  sin's  emissary  and  bailiff  in  posses- 
sion. There  are  no  little  sins,  shabby  peccadilloes,  im- 
portunate remembrances,  or  disappointed  holders  of  our 
promise  to  reform  hovering  at  our  steps  or  knocking  at  our 
door.  Of  course  not.  We  are  living  in  the  19th  century, 
and  poor  Dick  Steele  stumbled  and  got  up  again,  and  got 
into  jail  and  out  again,  and  sinned  and  repented  and  loved 
and  suffered  and  lived  and  died  scores  of  years  ago.  Peace 
be  with  him.  Let  us  think  gently  of  one  who  was  so  gentle; 
let  us  speak  kindly  of  one  whose  own  breast  exuberated  with 
human  kindness." 


RICHARD  BRINSLEY  SHERIDAN. 

The  youth  that  loves  no  schooling,  that  regards  Greek 
verbs  with  disfavor,  that  looks  upon  Caesar's  Gallic  Wars  as 
a  highly  concentrated  misfortune,  and  who  is  inclined  to 
say  with  the  hero  of  the  venerable  nursery  rhyme  that 

"  The  rule  of  three  perplexes  me 
And  fractions  drive  me  mad," 

may  find  matter  for  infinite  consolation  in  the  fact  that  the 
wittiest  Irishman,  indeed  it  might  fairly  be  said  the  wittiest 
man  of  his  time,  was  looked  upon  in  his  childhood  as  '*a 
dull,  unpromising  boy."  '*At  Harrow,"  says  Moore, 
*'  Richard  was  remarkable  only  as  a  very  idle,  careless,  but 
at  the  same  time  engaging  boy."  Think  of  it;  the  most 
famous  dramatist  since  Shakespeare;  the  brightest  wit  of 
an  age  which  especially  piqued  itself  upon  being  considered 
witty;  the  most  brilliant  orator  of  an  age  which  regarded 
oratory  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  arts  and  whose  roll  is 
studded  with  the  names  of  illustrious  orators,  the  most  un- 
rivalled humorist  of  a  century  which  in  all  parts  of  the  world 
distinguished  itself  by  its  love  of  humor,  being  looked  upon 
in  his  nonage  as  a  dull,  unpromising  boy!  The  dull,  un- 
promising boy  was  known  to  his  parents  and  the  friends  who 
shook  their  heads  over  him  as  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan. 

I  fear,  however,  that  it  cannot  be  accepted  as  an  axiom 
that  a  serene  indifference  to  study  and  a  scornful  contempt 
for  the  patient  paths  of  knowledge  are  necessarily  and  in- 
evitably proofs  of  the  possession  of  genius.  The  world 
would  blaze  with  a  greater  galaxy  of  splendid  names  if  such 


118  HO  URS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

were  the  case,  and  the  lowest  form  at  school  be  a  very  synod 
of  mute,  inglorious  Miltons.  But  it  may  be  a  comfortable 
anodyne  to  many  weary  minds,  grappling  vainly  with  most 
unlovely  tasks,  to  think  that  great  men  were  not  always 
remarkably  gifted  boys,  that  the  leader  in  college  is  not 
always  the  leader  in  life,  and  that  the  author  of  the  "  School 
for  Scandal  "  and  the  orator  of  the  Begum  speech  was  con- 
sidered by  those  who  had,  if  not  the  best,  at  least  the 
nearest  means  of  judging  his  capacity  as  a  dull,  unpromis- 
ing boy. 

Idle,  careless  Dick  Sheridan  came  from  the  scholastic 
shadows  of  Harrow  School  and  the  sunlit  hours  of  Harrow 
playgrounds  to  London.  London  did  not  make  him  much 
more  industrious  or  much  more  careful  than  he  had  been 
at  Harrow-on-the-Hill.  It  was  far  pleasanter  to  translate 
the  honeyed  Greek  of  Theocritus  with  its  babble  of  Syracu- 
sian  shepherds,  its  nymphs  and  waters  and  Sicilian  sea,  than 
to  follow  the  beaten  track  of  ordinary  education;  it  was 
vastly  more  entertaining  to  render  the  impassioned  prose 
of  Aristenetus  in  impassioned  English,  especially  in  the 
sweet  companionship  and  collaboration  of  a  friend  and 
heart's  brother,  than  to  yawn  over  Euclid  and  grumble  over 
Cocker. 

This  translation  of  Aristenetus  is  almost,  but  not  quite, 
forgotten.  The  boyish  task  of  careless  Sheridan  and  heart's 
brother  Halhed  still  enjoys  a  sort  of  existence  in  the  volumes 
of  the  classical  library  of  the  ingenious  Mr.  Bohn,  those 
volumes  which  Emerson  praised  so  highly  and  which  more 
than  one  generation  of  schoolboys  have  blessed  as  cribs. 
They  are,  however,  utterly  valueless,  and  had  best  be  left 
by  all  lovers  of  Sheridan  in  the  Limbo  of  youthful  follies. 
From  the  turning  of  Greek  prose  into  English  verse,  care- 
less Sheridan  and  heart's  brother  Halhed  now  turned  to 
another  occupation  in  which,  as  in  the  other,  they  were  both 


RICH  A  RD  BRINSLE  V  SHERIDA  N.  119 

of  one  mind,  and  for  the  last  time.  They  both  fell  in  love, 
and  both  with  the  same  woman.  All  contemporary  accounts 
agree  in  regarding  the  musical  daughter  of  Musician  Linley 
as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  of  her  age.  Those  who 
know,  either  in  its  own  native  canvas  or  through  engravings, 
the  portrait  which  the  greatest  painter  of  his  time  painted 
of  Sheridan's  wife  as  St.  Cecilia,  will  readily  understand  the 
extraordinary,  almost  universal  homage  which  society  and 
art,  wit  and  wealth  and  genius  paid  to  Miss  Linley.  Un- 
like the  girl  in  Sheridan's  own  poem,  who  is  assured  by  her 
adorer  that  she  will  meet  with  friends  in  all  the  aged,  and 
lovers  in  the  young,  Miss  Linley  found  old  as  well  as  young 
competing  for  her  affection  and  the  honor  of  her  hand. 
Richard  Sheridan  and  heart's  brother  Halhed  were  still 
almost  boys  when  they  beheld  and  adored  her,  and  Charles 
Sheridan,  Richard's  elder  brother,  was  still  a  young  man. 
But  Miss  Linley  had  old  lovers,  too,  men  long  past  the 
middle  pathway  of  their  life,  who  besought  her  to  marry 
them  with  all  the  impetuosity  of  youth.  One  of  them, 
whom  she  wisely  rejected  on  the  ground  that  wealth  could 
not  atone  for  the  disparity  in  years,  carried  off  his  disap- 
pointment gracefully  enough  by  immediately  settling  a  sum 
of  three  thousand  pounds  upon  her. 

There  is  something  extraordinarily  romantic  about  the 
whole  course  of  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan^s  attachment  to 
Miss  Linley.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  remarkable  that  for  a 
long  time  he  contrived  to  keep  the  fact  of  his  attachment 
entirely  a  secret  from  his  elder  brother,  Charles,  and  from 
his  unhappy  friend,  Halhed,  both  of  whom  were  wildly  in 
love  with  Miss  Linley,  and  neither  of  whom  appear  to  have 
had  the  faintest  suspicion  that  they  had  a  rival — th^e  one 
in  so  close  a  kinsman,  and  the  other  in  his  own  familiar 
friend.  It  must  be  admitted  regretfully  that  Richard 
Sheridan  does  not  appear  to  have  acted  in  the  furtherance 


120  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN, 

of  his  own  courtship  with  that  upright  fidelity  to  friendship 
which  might  have  been  expected  from  his  gallant,  impetuous 
nature.  Not  merely  did  he  keep  his  love-secret  safely  shut 
away  from  his  brother  and  from  his  friend,  but  he  seems  to 
have  allowed  Halhed  to  look  upon  him  as  his  confidant  and 
ally  in  pressing  Halhed's  suit  upon  Miss  Linley.  Halhed 
reproached  him  sadly,  but  not  bitterly,  in  a  poetical  epistle, 
the  value  of  which  is  more  personal  than  poetical,  when  he 
discovered  the  real  mind  of  his  friend.  Herewith  Halhed 
vanishes  from  the  page  of  our  history.  He  sailed  for  India, 
the  golden  land  of  so  many  wrecked  hopes  and  disappointed 
ambitions;  he  became  in  the  fullness  of  time  a  member 
of  Parliament;  he  long  outlived  his  first  love  and  his  suc- 
cessful rival;  he  died  in  1830;  and  is  dimly  remembered  as 
the  author  of  a  grammar  of  the  Bengal  language,  and  of  a 
work  on  Gentoo  laws,  translated  from  the  Persian."  Such 
was  the  curious  conclusion  of  a  man's  career  who  had  be- 
gun by  being  Sheridan's  friend  and    Miss  Linley's  lover. 

Sheridan's  courtship  progressed  more  and  more  roman- 
tically. There  is  the  dangerous  rivalry  of  Matthews,  the 
married  rake;  Miss  Linley's  flight  to  France  with  Sheridan 
to  escape  from  Matthews'  persecution;  the  secret  marriage 
near  Calais;  the  libelous  attack  on  Sheridan  inserted  in  the 
Bath  CJu'onicle  by  the  revengeful  and  disappointed  Matthews ; 
the  subsequent  public  apology  extorted  by  Sheridan  at  the 
sword's  point;  Matthews'  further  and  baser  mendacity;  the 
second  duel,  in  which  the  combatants  seem  to  have  fought 
with  desperate  ferocity,  and  in  which  Sheridan,  badly 
wounded,  refused  to  ask  his  life  at  the  hand  of  his  antag- 
onist, and  was  only  rescued  by  the  seconds.  Then  follows 
a  long  period  of  separation,  dark  and  despairing  hours  for 
Sheridan,  only  brightened  by  occasional  meetings  of  the 
most  eccentric  kind,  when  the  wild  young  poet,  quaintly 
masked  in  the  complicated  capes  of  a  hackney  coachman. 


RICHARD  BRINSLEY  SHERIDAN.  121 

has  the  fascinating,  tormenting  privilege  of  driving  his  be- 
loved from  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  where  her  voice  and 
beauty  were  nightly  charming  all  London.  At  last  the  ob- 
duracy of  a  flinty-hearted  parent — I  am  convinced  that 
Sheridan  must  have  styled  old  Linley  flinty-hearted — was 
overcome,  and  on  the  13th  of  April,  1773,  the  most  brilliant 
man  and  most  beautiful  woman  of  their  day  were  for  the 
second  time  and  more  formally  married,  and  a  series  of 
episodes  more  romantic  than  fiction  came  to  an  end. 

The  romance,  it  is  agreeable  to  think,  did  not  conclude 
with  the  marriage  ceremony.  It  was  not  an  age  which  set 
any  great  store  by  conjugal  affection  and  devotion,  but 
Sheridan  was  sufficiently  in  advance  of  his  age  to  offer  his 
wife  as  romantic  an  attachment  after  her  marriage  as  he 
had  shown  in  the  days  of  duelling  and  disguising  which  had 
preceded  it.  He  wrote  verses  to  her,  and  she  to  him,  long 
after  they  had  settled  down  to  serene  domesticity,  which 
breathe  the  most  passionate  expressions  of  mutual  love.  I 
have  mentioned  before  in  another  paper  that  element  rather 
of  tragedy  than  of  romance  which  legend — for  I  can  only 
consider  it  to  be  legend — has  endeavored  to  intrude  upon 
the  married  life  of  Richard  Sheridan  and  Elizabeth  Linley. 

It  has  been  hinted  dimly  yet  decisively  that  Lord  Edward 
Fitzgerald,  the  "gallant  and  seditious  Geraldine,"  felt 
more  than  a  friend's  admiration  for  the  wife  of  his  friend, 
and  that  the  feeling  stronger  than  friendship  was  returned 
by  Mrs.  Sheridan.  According  to  this  legend,  Elizabeth 
Sheridan's  unhappy  passion  shortened  by  its  attendant  grief 
her  life;  according  to  this  legend  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald 
only  married  the  fair  Pamela,  daughter  of  wild  Equality 
Orleans,  because  of  the  strange  and  striking  resemblance 
she  bore  to  the  St.  Cecilia  of  his  dreams.  The  legend  I 
for  one  most  confidently  and  distinctly  disbelieve. 

The  young  married  Sheridan  thought  for  a  time  of  de- 


123  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

voting  his  genius  to  the  service  of  old  Father  Antic,  the 
law,  but  like  the  king-making  Warwick  in  the  play,  he  soon 
found  himself  "no  wiser  than  a  daw,"  in  its  "nice  sharp 
quillets."  His  thoughts  and  tastes  were  otherwise  inclined, 
and  on  the  27th  of  January,  1775,  ^^t  quite  two  years  after 
his  marriage,  "  The  Rivals"  was  produced  at  Covent  Garden, 
and  a  new  chapter  opened  in  the  history  of  dramatic  litera- 
ture. It  is  curious  to  think  that  the  clumsiness  of  the  actor 
to  whom  the  part  of  Sir  Lucius  O'Trigger  was  entrusted 
came  very  near  to  damning  the  most  brilliant  comedy  that 
had  been  seen  on  the  English  stage  for  nearytwo  centuries. 
The  happy  substitution  of  actor  Clinch  for  actor  Lee,  how- 
ever, saved  the  play  and  made  Sheridan  the  most  popular 
author  in  London.  Of  course  the  genius  of  the  comedy  must 
have  won  recognition  in  the  end;  it  was  not  in  the  power  of 
any  actor,  however  incompetent,  to  obscure  the  genius  of 
Sheridan;  but  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  terribly,  on  the 
first  night,  a  clumsy  representation  of  Sir  Lucius  O'Trigger 
would  have  marred  the  general  effect  of  the  play,  and  dis- 
torted the  skillful  harmony  of  its  proportions.  How  grate- 
ful, however,  Sheridan  felt  to  Clinch  for  rescuing  Sir  Lucius 
from  Lee's  clutches  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  his  next 
production,  the  farce  called  "  St.  Patrick's  Day,  or  the 
Scheming  Lieutenant "  was  expressly  written  to  afford  op- 
portunity for  Clinch's  peculiar  talents.  In  1777  the  "  School 
for  Scandal  "  was  produced  and  was  succeeded  by  Sheridan's 
last  dramatic  work,  the  "  Critic." 

In  the  meantime,  Sheridan,  prompted  by  the  triumph  of 
"  The  Rivals,"  had  become  a  theatrical  manager  by  the 
purchase  of  Garrick's  share  in  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  Theatri- 
cal management  absorbed  all  Sheridan's  thoughts  for  a  time, 
and  then,  being  already  the  most  famous  author  alive,  he 
suddenly  found  opportunity  for  the  display  of  wholly  new 
and  unexpected  talents,  and  became  one  of  the  most  famous 


RICHARD  BRINSLEY  SHERIDAN.  123 

politicians  and  tiie  most  famous  orators  alive.  There  had, 
indeed,  always  been  a  certain  political  bent  in  Sheridan's 
mind.  He  had  tried  his  hand  at  many  political  pamphlets, 
fragments  of  which  were  found  among  his  papers  by  Moore, 
and  his  mind  had  always  taken  the  keenest  interest  in  the 
great  questions  which  stirred  the  vivid  political  life  of  the 
waning  eighteenth  century.  The  general  election  of  1780 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  expressing  this  interest  in  the 
public  field,  and  he  was  returned  to  Parliament  as  member 
for  the  borough  of  Stamford.  It  is  difficult  to  find  a  par- 
allel in  all  history  for  the  extraordinary  success  which  at- 
tended Sheridan  in  his  political  as  it  had  already  attended 
him  in  his  dramatic  career.  We  have  only  to  adapt  the 
case  to  our  own  times  to  fully  perceive  the  amazing  nature 
of  the  triumph.  Let  us  imagine  some  successful  theatrical 
manager  of  the  present  day,  Mr.  Irving,  say,  or  Mr.  Wilson 
Barret,  being  also  conspicuous  as  the  foremost  dramatic 
author  of  his  time.  Let  us  further  imagine  that  this  theatri- 
cal manager,  at  a  time  when  his  management  was  most  profit- 
able, and  his  plays,  the  creation  of  his  own  genius,  most 
popular,  suddenly  turning  to  political  life,  entering  Parlia- 
ment, and  making  himself  swiftly  and  surely  pre-eminent 
there  as  a  statesman  and  an  orator.  Let  us  imagine  Mr. 
Henry  Irving  or  Mr.  Wilson  Barrett  suddenly  displaying 
qualities  of  statesmanship  and  of  political  leadership,  which 
would  entitle  them  to  rank  with  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Mr. 
Morley  and  Mr.  Parnell,  and  competing  as  peers  for  orator- 
ical honors  with  the  Prime  Minister,  and  we  shall  form  some 
idea  of  the  really  surprising  naUire  of  Sheridan's  success. 
Of  course  the  parallel  is  not  quite  perfect,  for  Mr.  Henry 
Irving  and  Mr.  Wilson  Barrett,  like  most  modern  theatrical 
managers,  are  actors  as  well  as  managers,  but  it  is  sufficiently 
near,  considering  the  changed  relationships  of  society  since 


124  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

the  last  century,  to  illustrate  my  meaning  and  to  point  my 
parallel. 

Just. on  the  threshold  of  his  political  career  Sheridan  lost 
the  wife  he  loved  so  well.  He  married  again,  and  there  is  a 
little  story  told,  half  melancholy,  half  humorous,  and  wholly 
pathetic  in  connection  with  this  second  marriage.  Mrs. 
Sheridan — she  had  been  a  Miss  Ogle — young,  clever  and 
ardently  devoted  to  her  husband — was  found  one  day  *'  walk- 
ing ap  and  down  her  drawing-room  apparently  in  a  frantic 
state  of  mind,  calling  her  husband  a  villain,  because,  as  she 
explained  with  some  hesitation,  she  had  just  discovered  that 
the  love-letters  he  had  sent  to  her  were  the  very  same  as 
those  which  he  had  written  to  his  first  wife."  It  is  to  be 
presumed  that  Sheridan  thought  them  so  good  that  they 
might  well  serve  a  second  turn,  but  this  act  of  Hterary — 
specially  love-literary — parsimony  was  not  happy.  But 
parsimony  of  his  written  work  was  Sheridan's  peculiarity. 
Verses  addressed  to  his  dear  St.  CeciUa  make  their  appear- 
ance, under  altered  conditions,  again  and  again  in  his  plays. 
"  It  is  singular  enough,"  writes  a  critic,  *'  that  the  treasures 
of  wit  which  Sheridan  was  thought  to  possess  in  such  profu- 
sion should  have  been  the  only  species  of  wealth  which  he 
ever  dreamed  of  economizing." 

The  want  of  economy  of  all  other  wealth  makes  the  clos- 
ing scenes  of  Sheridan's  life  profoundly  tragic.  They  are 
only  too  familiar;  let  us  leave  them  this  once  shrouded;  let 
us  not  think  upon  Sheridan,  old,  sick,  impoverished,  and 
abandoned,  deserted  by  his  friends  and  by  his  party,  the 
proverbially  faithless  Whigs.  Let  us  think  of  him  rather 
in  his  hours  of  triumph,  on  the  first  night  of  some  great 
play,  on  the  evening  of  some  epoch-making  speech.  Byron, 
if  I  remember  rightly,  said  of  him  that  he  had  written  the 
best  comedy,  the  best  farce,  and  the  best  comic  opera,  and 
spoken  the  greatest  speech  of  his  time.     The  speech  was 


RICHARD  BRINSLE  Y  SHERIDAN.  125 

the  Begum  speech,  lost  now  for  us,  and  lost  irretrievably 
and  irreparably  are  all  its  fellow-speeches.  The  miserable 
and  mangled  fragments  which  are  called  the  speeches  of 
Sheridan  do  not  represent  the  glowing  orations  which 
charmed  a  Senate  and  delighted  statesmen,  and  which,  if 
the  author  had  been  only  a  little  more  prodigal  of  his  pains, 
would  have  existed  now  to  charm  later  generations  with  the 
charm  of  Demosthenes,  of  Cicero,  and  of  Burke. 


LAWRENCE   STERNE. 

The  town  of  Clonmel  is  chiefly  associated  in  the  minds 
of  Irishmen  to-day  with  the  closing  scenes  in  the  national 
tragedy  of  1810.  In  Clonmel  Courthouse,  William  Smith 
O'Brien  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged,  drawn  and  quartered^ 
in  Clonmel  Courthouse  the  echoes  rang  with  Meagher's 
passionate,  eloquent  declaration  that  he  did  not  despair  of 
his  country.  But  there  is  another  association  connected 
with  Clonmel,  an  association  that  has  in  it  nothing  revolu- 
tionary or  romantic,  but  it  is  of  a  purely  literary  nature. 
In  the  town  of  Clonmel  Laurence  Sterne  was  born,  one 
hundred  and  seventy-three  years  ago.  Whether  Tipperary 
or  Waterford  can  claim  the  honor  of  including  Laurence 
Sterne  among  her  sons  I  do  not  know,  although  the  fact  is, 
I  dare  say,  known,  or  at  least  knowable,  to  the  curious. 
For  my  own  part  I  am  not  very  proud  of  the  fact  that  Sterne 
was  born  on  Irish  earth,  or  of  the  inclusion  of  his  works  in 
our  literature.  There  is  nothing  noble  in  the  man's  life; 
where  it  is  not  positively  ignoble  it  is  practically  unnoble; 
and  as  for  his  writings— well,  I  should  not  be  inclined  to 
quarrel  with  England  for  proud  possession  of  them.  Even 
if  they  were  wholly  free  from  taint  and  canker,  even  if  their 
sentiment  were  not  a  sham  and  their  virtue  an  affectation, 
they  vvould  not  seem  to  be  a  prize  worth  striving  for.  Our 
laurel  wreath  is  green  enough  without  adding  thereto  any 
leaves  from  the  "  Sentimental  Journey;  "  and  as  for  "  Tris- 
tram Shandy,"  I  am  heartily  of  a  mind  with  Horace  Walpole 
for  once  in  finding  it  supremely  dull.  If,  therefore,  any 
one  were  to  maintain  with  regard  to  Sterne  what  has  been 


LAWRENCE  STERNE.  127 

maintained  witti  regard  to  Swift,  that  he  was  not  an  Irish- 
man, and  that,  therefore,  his  works  are  not  parcel  and  por- 
tion of  Irish  Hterature,  I  should  not  for  my  own  part  and 
from  my  own  point  of  view  be  eager  to  say  such  a  critic  nay. 
The  opinion,  however,  of  the  majority  is,  I  suppose,  against 
me.  The  genius,  the  wit,  the  humor  of  Sterne  has  been 
pxtolled  by  his  contemporaries  in  language  that  might  be 
called  unmeasured  if  it  did  not  appear  to  be  measured, 
sedate  and  even  qualified,  when  compared  with  the  praises 
that  have  been  showered  upon  Sterne  by  his  successors  in 
his  literature.  Few  writers  have  been  more  persistently 
read,  few  writers  have  enriched  literature  with  a  greater 
stock  of  allusion,  quotation  and  illustration;  few  writers 
have  been  more  fortunate  in  winning  the  homage,  not  only 
of  their  own  countrymen,  but  of  the  men  of  other  countries, 
and  a  welcome  into  the  pantheon  of  other  literatures. 
English  authors  of  the  highest  rank  have  exhausted  their 
vocabulary  in  adulation  of  Sterne;  French  writers  have  not 
been  content  with  merely  praising  him  and  making  him 
through  translations  free  of  their  Republic  of  Letters,  but 
have  paid  him  the  higher  compliment  of  imitating  him;  and 
what  is  true  of  France  is  no  less  true  of  Germany. 

One  of  the  greatest  of  German  writers — the  writer  whom  I 
individually  prefer  to  all  German  writers  save  and  except  one 
— Jean  Paul  Richter,  declares  more  than  once  that  he  regards 
Sterne  as  his  master.  The  statement  amazes  me.  Jean  Paul 
Richter,  Jean  Paul,  the  Only  One  (der  Einzige)  as  he  was 
fondly  called — they  tell  me  he  is  out  of  date  now  in  Germany, 
and  if  so  I  am  sorry  for  Germany  —  was  immeasurably 
greater  than  his  master;  was  greater,  too,  I  think,  than  his 
pupil  and  imitator  who  wrote  ^^  Sartor  Resartusy  All 
that  was  sham,  tinsel  and  tawdry  in  the  writings  of  Yorick 
was  genuine,  heart-felt  and  soul-inspiring  in  Jean  Paul. 
Yorick's  sentiment  was  pinch-beck;  Jean  Paul's  was  pure 


128  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN, 

gold.  All  that  Richter  ever  wrote  is  animated  with  the 
deepest  religious  feeling,  the  tenderest  sympathy,  the  gen- 
tlest and  bravest  pity.  Yorick,  in  the  black  and  white  of 
his  sacred  calling's  gown  and  band,  grins  and  leers  like  a 
disguised  satyr.  His  morality  is  a  mummer's  mask;  his 
pathos  is  pretence;  the  only  thing  truly  Irish  about  him  is 
his  humor,  his  ceaseless  wit,  the  unfailing  sparkle  of  his 
fancy. 

Seldom,  perhaps,  has  an  author  experienced  a  stranger 
bringing  up  than  that  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  Sterne.  His 
father,  Roger  Sterne,  was  one  of  those  luckless  persons  who 
seem  to  be  the  especial  sport  of  a  malicious  destiny,  in 
whose  hands-  nothing  prospers,  from  whose  hands  thievish 
fortune  filches  all  opportunities.  Roger  Sterne  was  a  gen- 
tleman of  good  family  and  narrow  means,  who  had  adopted 
arms  as  his  profession  and  had  not  prospered  therein.  He 
had  married  a  wife  who  was  herself  a  sutler's  widow,  and 
who  blessed  Ensign  Sterne  with  a  swift  and  steady  succes- 
sion of  offspring,- of  whom  Laurence  was  the  second.  It 
was  chance,  acting  through  the  impulses  of  the  War  Office, 
which  caused  little  Laurence  to  see  the  light  on  Irish  soil, 
but  though  he  was  born  in  the  melodiously  named  Valley 
of  Honey,  there  was  Uttle  of  honeyed  sweetness,  but  much 
bitterness  as  of  gall  and  coloquintida,  in  his  early  boyhood. 
Poverty  and  the  eccentric  evolutions  of  a  marching  regiment 
contributed  to  make  Laurence's  a  most  unenviable  child- 
hood. The  record,  as  we  can  read  it  in  his  own  account,  is 
disastrous  and  dreary  enough.  The  regiment  to  which  Roger 
Sterne  belonged  was  perpetually  on  the  move;  the  births 
and  deaths  of  Mrs.  Sterne's  children  succeeded  each  other 
with  painful  rapidity;  again  and  again  was  little  Laurence  in 
imminent  peril  of  shipwreck  on  the  stormiest  seas;  all  that 
was  worse  and  most  disagreeable  in  the  life  of  camp  fol- 
lowers he  experienced  in  his  earliest  years.     Some  account 


LA  WRENCE  STERNE.  129 

must  necessarily  be  taken  of  this  by  those  who  review 
Sterne's  writings.  A  child  brought  up  under  such  condi- 
tions is  not  likely  to  have  a  very  keen  appreciation  of  the 
finer  phases  of  life,  and  must  inevitably  have  a  precocious 
and  most  unfortunate  familiarity  with  the  dreamy  side  of 
existence.  What  is  commonly  called  knowledge  of  the 
world,  as  seeing  life  generally,  means  seeing  its  darkest 
phases,  and  the  future  divine  was  not  improved  by  the  edu- 
cation of  the  camp. 

The  misfortune  that  had  attended  so  persistently  upon 
the  career  of  Roger  Sterne  culminated  at  last,  most  tragi- 
cally, yet  at  the  same  time  most  ludicrously,  as  if  destiny 
had  determined  to  the  end  to  make  the  luckless  ensign  her 
sport.  At  Gibraltar  a  quarrel  with  another  officer  "about 
a  goose  "  resulted  in  a  duel.  Roger  Sterne  was  run  through 
the  body.  He  never  recovered  from  the  wound,  and  though 
in  this  harsh  world  he  drew  his  breath  in  pain  a  little  longer, 
he  died  in  Jamaica  of  fever,  which  found  his  enfeebled  frame 
a  ready  victim.  One  of  the  few  pleasing  characteristics 
in  Laurence  Sterne's  nature  is  his  affectionate  memory  of 
his  father;  one  of  the  most  pleasing  passages  of  all  his 
writings  is  that  in  which  he  describes  him:  "My  father 
was  a  little,  smart  man,  active  to  the  last  degree  in  all  ex- 
ercises, most  patient  of  fatigue  and  disappointment,  of  which 
it  had  pleased  God  to  give  him  full  measure.  He  was  in 
his  temper  somewhat  rapid  and  hasty" — hence,  no  doubt, 
the  speaking  of  hot  words  and  the  spilling  of  hot  blood  over 
that  ill-omened  goose — "but  of  a  kindly,  sweet  disposition, 
void  of  all  design,  and  so  innocent  in  his  intentions  that  he 
suspected  no  one,  so  that  you  might  have  cheated  him  ten 
times  a  day  if  nine  had  not  been  sufficient  for  your  pur- 
pose." The  actions  of  the  famous  son  do  not  smell  so  sweet 
or  blossom  so  brightly  in  the  dust  as  those  of  the  obscure, 
unlucky  father. 
5 


130  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

Through  Halifax  school  and  Cambridge  sizarship  Lau- 
rence Sterne  passes,  through  the  patronage  of  his  pluralist 
uncle,  Jacques  Sterne,  into  holy  orders  and  the  living  of 
Sutton-on-the-Forest,  and  so  into  twenty  years  of  almost 
complete  obscurity.  We  know  that  he  married,  that  he 
preached,  played  the  fiddle,  fished,  hunted  and  read,  and 
that  is  about  all  we  know.  For  twenty  full  years  the  world 
was  almost  absolutely  ignorant  of  and  absolutely  indifferent 
to  the  existence  of  Laurence  Sterne.  Then  quite  suddenly, 
in  1759,  the  lazy,  lounging,  most  eccentric,  and  ill-chosen 
clergyman  irritated  York  and  enraptured  London  by  the 
publication  of  the  first  two  volumes  of  "  Tristram  Shandy." 
The  record  of  literature  and  of  history  more  bustling  than 
that  of  literature  is  starred  with  curious  examples  of  men 
who  leap  into  sudden  fame  after  a  life  of  obscurity.  Tough 
soldier  Cervantes  fights  and  starves  and  struggles  his  way 
through  fifty  years  of  life,  and  then  **  smiles  Spain's  chivalry 
away"  with  his  immortal  book.  Dumouriez  lives  fifty  rest- 
less, nameless  years  unknown,  and  wins  one  year  **  seen  of 
all  countries  and  centuries."  Parson  Sterne,  of  Sutton  and 
York,  is  seven-and-forty  years  of  age  when  he  steps,  with- 
out any  previous  warning,  into  the  highest  popularity  of  his 
time,  and  into  an  enduring  place  in  literature  for  ever. 
There  is  a  kind  of  consolation  in  this.  The  obscurest  soul 
that  ever  neared  its  grand  climacteric  in  outer  darkness  may 
feed  itself  with  the  thought  that  it,  too,  may  even  yet  in 
the  evening  of  existence  rise  up  and  overthrow  the  Austrian 
or  pen  the  volume  that  shall  rival  "  Don  Quixote"  and  eclipse 
Yorick. 

The  author  of  "  Tristram  Shandy"  came  at  once  to  town, 
and  was  received  with  more  than  Roman  triumph.  Wealth, 
wit,  genius,  nobility  thronged  his  door,  sought  his  friendship, 
proffered  favors.  Sterne  revelled  in  this  new  life.  London 
was  to  him  a  cup  of  the  most  intoxicating  quality,  and  he 


LA  WRENCE  STERNE.  131 

drank  and  drank  again  of  its  sparkling  fountain  without 
ever  quenching  his  thirst  for  popularity,  for  flattery,  for 
success.  Flattery,  popularity,  success,  all  three  he  had  in 
plenty  for  eight  resplendent  years.  Volume  after  volume 
of  "Tristram  Shandy  "  wooed  and  won  public  applause. 
He  traveled  abroad,  and  found  the  same  adulation  in  the 
great  capitals  of  Europe  that  he  had  revelled  in  in  London. 
When  the  popularity  of  "  Shandy  "  appeared  to  be  waning, 
and  the  fame  of  its  author  to  be  dwindling,  he  whipped  it 
up  again  with  the  "  Sentimental  Journey."  Then  he  died 
one  of  the  most  tragic  deaths  recorded  in  the  necrology  of 
genius.  He  died  in  the  London  he  loved  so  well  and  he 
died  alone.  The  wish  he  had  expressed  of  expiring  at  an 
inn  untroubled  by  the  presence  of  mourning  friends  was 
grimly  gratified.  In  lonely  lodgings,  beneath  the  specula- 
tive gaze  of  a  memoir-writing  foot-man  and  the  care  of 
hired  hands,  Sterne  gasped  out  the  words  "  Now  it  is  come," 
and  so  died.  He  v/as  buried  almost  unattended,  and  his 
body  was  stolen  from  its  new-made  grave  by  resurrectionists 
and  recognized,  when  half-dissected  on  an  anatomist's  table, 
by  a  horrified  friend.  So  the  story  goes,  not  absolutely 
authentic,  but  certainly  not  absolutely  unauthentic,  the 
melancholy  conclusion  of  an  ill-spent  life  and  a  splendid, 
ill-used  intellect. 

No  critic  can  be  too  severe  on  the  leprous  taint  which 
befouls  all  Sterne's  writings,  and  which  makes  them  in  their 
entirety  repulsive  for  men  and  impossible  for  women.  The 
recognized  license  of  his  age  does  not  excuse  him,  for  he 
overpassed  its  license.  But  even  if  Sterne's  writings  were 
far  less  deeply  stained  than  they  are,  they  would  be  open 
to  grave  reproach.  Quite  apart  from  the  unreality,  the 
affectation  of  their  sentimentality,  the  selfish,  ignoble  spirit 
of  their  author  peers  out  of  page  after  page  like  the  wry 
face  of  a  satyr  through  the  summer  leaves.     '*  Why  should 


132  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

we  not  speak  ill  of  the  dead  ?  "  he  asks,  deriding  the  tender 
humanity  of  the  old  Latin  phrase;  "  why  should  we  not  think 
or  speak  ill  of  our  neighbor?"  he  asks,  in  one  of  the 
strangest  of  the  strangest  collection  of  sermons  ever  uttered 
by  human  lips  under  the  semblance  of  religious  teaching. 
The  points  are  small,  but  they  are  characteristic  of  the  man. 
It  was  in  his  nature  to  question  all  these  soft  amenities 
which  make  men  loveable  and  life  enduring.  It  was  no  less 
in  his  nature  to  be  one  of  the  most  unworthy  husbands  that 
hapless  woman  has  even  been  mated  with.  For  his  con- 
duetto  his  wife  his  memory  has  been  scourged  by  Thackeray 
and  by  his  latest  biographer,  Mr.  H.  D.  Trail,  himself  one 
of  the  ablest  of  contemporary  writers.  It  cannot  be  too 
severely  scourged.  He  took  her  youth,  he  took  her  money, 
and  he  tired  of  her  and  was  untrue  to  her,  and  spoke  against 
her  in  the  dastardly  letters  he  wrote  to  his  friends  and  in 
which  he  has  gibbeted  himself  to  all  time  as  a  hideous  warn- 
ing, a  sort  of  sentimental  scarecrow.  '*  As  to  the  nature  of 
Sterne's  love  affairs, '^  says  Mr.  Trail,  "  I  have  come,  though 
not  without  hesitation,  to  the  conclusion  that  they  were 
most,  if  not  all  of  them,  what  is  called,  somewhat  absurdly, 
platonic.  *  *  *  But  as  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  hold 
that  the  conventionally  '  innocent  *  is  the  equivalent  of  the 
morally  harmless  in  this  matter,  I  cannot  regard  the  ques- 
tion as  worth  any  very  minute  investigation.  I  am  not  sure 
that  the  habitual  male  flirt,  who  neglects  his  wife  to  sit  con- 
tinually languishing  at  the  feet  of  some  other  woman,  gives 
much  less  pain  and  scandal  to  others  or  does  much  less  mis- 
chief to  himself  and  the  objects  of  his  adoration  than  the 
thorough-going  profligate." 

Sterne  was  undoubtedly  a  great  man,  and  he  has  been 
claimed  as  an  Irishman,  and  so  he  cannot  be  overlooked; 
and  any  student  of  Irish  history  must  take  him  into  account 
and  weigh  him  as  well  as  he  may  and  judge  him.     A  man 


LAWRENCE  STERNE.  133 

and  a  writer  of  such  fame  cannot  be  ignored  because  of  his 
baseness;  and  with  all  his  baseness  he  has  done  some  work 
which  must  be  considered  excellent  as  literary  w^ork.  But 
I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  the  Irishman  who  studies  his 
country's  literature  was  not  forced  to  come  across  the  name 
of  Laurence  Sterne.  I  wish  that  the  presiding  influences 
of  Mars  and  Lucina  had  caused  Sterne  to  see  the  light  in 
Gibraltar  or  Jamaica  or  any  part  of  the  world  except  Ire- 
land. I  would  give  with  a  light  heart  all  that  is  good  in 
*'  Tristram  Shandy  "  or  the  Yorick  Sermons,  or  the  "  Senti- 
mental Journey,"  to  be  clean  and  quit  of  what  is  bad  and 
base  in  them.  I  would  gladly  banish  from  the  Elysian  fields, 
which  fancy  peoples  with  the  ghosts  of  Irish  genius,  the 
Simian  shadow  of  Sterne.  His  life  and  his  genius  alike  are 
things  to  wonder  at,  to  weep  for,  and  to  avoid. 


THOMAS  DAVIS. 

If  ever  a  man  or  the  sons  of  men  have  been  made  a  nui- 
sance to  his  fellows,  that  man  is  Fletcher  of  Saltoun;  if  ever 
a  quotation  has  been  hackneyed  and  dismally  done  to  death 
it  is  Fletcher  of  Saltoun's  saying  in  which  he  expresses  his 
indifference  as  to  who  makes  his  people's  laws  so  long  as 
he,  Fletcher  of  Saltoun,  is  permitted  to  make  their  ballads. 
Yet  this  axiom,  one  of  those  common  coins  of  literature 
which  has  been  so  long  in  circulation  that  \t  is  worn  smooth 
and  flat  and  well-nigh  lost  its  image  and  superscription,  con- 
tains a  profound  truth.  The  ballad-makers  of  the  world  have 
had  more  influence  upon  their  countries  than  the  law-makers; 
they  have  generally  been  the  heralds,  the  guides,  the  in- 
stigators of  the  law-makers.  The  destinies  of  half  the  great 
kingdoms  of  the  earth  have  been  directed  by  some  singer 
of  songs.  Ballads  are  the  best  allies  of  all  great  political 
movements.  The  Stuart  cause,  for  example,  was  kept  alive 
through  long  generations  of  hopeless  effort  by  the  genius, 
the  passion  and  the  devotion  of  the  ballad-makers  who 
wore  the  white  cockade  and  who  appealed  so  simply  and 
yet  so  eloquently  to  their  hearers'  loyalty  to  *'  the  king  over 
the  water."  A  poet  of  our  day  now  dead,  who  bore  an  Irish 
name,  and  who  was  inspired  by  some  of  the  fire  of  Irish 
genius,  has  written  some  verses  in  which  he  pays  enthusiastic 
tribute  to  the  power  of  poetry  in  all  ages  and  among  all  men. 
The  poets  have  done  everything  he  declares: 

"  We  in  the  ages  lying 

In  the  buried  past  of  the  earth 
Built  Nineveh  with  our  sighing." 


THOMAS  DAVIS.  135 

And  so  on.  It  is  the,  perhaps,  pardonable  weakness  of 
poets  to  consider  that  the  guild  to  which  they  belong  has 
effected  much  in  the  world's  history,  and  it  cannot  be  said 
that  they  always  exaggerate  the  influence  of  the  brotherhood. 
The  world  would  be  a  great  deal  worse  than  it  is  if  it  were 
not  for  the  labors  of  some  of  them. 

Certainly  no  poet  has  ever  more  distinctly  influenced 
the  course  of  his  country's  destinies,  certainly  no  poet  has 
ever  more  profoundly  informed  a  great  poUtical  movement 
with  his  own  genius,  than  Thomas  Davis.  At  a  time  when 
his  country  seemed  almost  in  the  dust,  and  at  a  time  when 
literature  was  almost  extinct,  when  patriotism  was  starving 
for  lack  of  inspiration,  when  knowledge  was  denied,  when 
National  hopes  were  fainting,  Thomas  Davis  came  before 
his  countrymen  as  the  breather  of  a  new  courage,  the  founder 
of  a  new  and  noble  literature,  the  herald  of  a  wider  knowl- 
edge and  the  uplifter  and  regenerator  of  the  fainting  aspira- 
tions of  his  fellow-men.  The  whole  history  of  Ireland  for 
the  last  half  century  would  have  been  written  strangely 
otherwise  if  the  genius  and  the  pure  ambition  of  Davis  had 
not  been  vouchsafed  to  the  Irish  race.  Too  many  of  the 
names  that  fill  the  highest  places  in  Ireland's  annals  are 
those  of  men  whose  life's  work  has  been  cut  short  on  the 
threshold  of  manhood.  Thomas  Davis  is  a  sad  instance  of 
this.  The  dawn  of  his  genius  had  scarcely  warmed  his 
country  with  its  bright  glows  of  roseate  promise  when  he 
had  passed  into  the  darkness,  leaving  the  hearts  of  his 
countrymen  yearning  for  the  sound  of  the  voice  of  which 
they  were  but  then  learning  the  value.  Davis  was  born  at 
Mallow  in  1814.  His  early  years  gave  few  indications  of  the 
genius  which  was  destined  later  to  raise  him  to  the  foremost 
rank  of  his  contemporaries.  He  was  quiet,  shy,  and  self- 
contained;  but  his  passionate  love  for  Ireland  was  deeply 
rooted  in  his  nature,  and  grew  with  him  year  by  year  until 


136  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

at  last,  at  the  age  of  twenty- seven,  the  young  student  threw 
off  his  old,  retiring  habits  of  study  and  reflection,  and  pass- 
ing from  the  shade  of  dreaming  to  that  of  acting,  he  ap- 
peared before  the  world  as  a  poet  and  politician,  with  a  suc- 
cess which  surprised  no  one,  probably,  so  greatly  as  himself. 
The  Nation  newspaper,  founded  in  1842  by  Gavan  Duffy, 
Davis  and  Dillon,  was  the  first  medium  through  which  the 
Irish  reading  population  became  acquainted  with  Davis's 
poems.  The  acquaintance  ripened  rapidly  into  warmest 
friendship,  and  soon  to  love  !  A  year  after  the  Nation  had 
started  into  life  there  were  few  Irish  homes  whose  inmates 
did  not  watch  eagerly  for  every  new  song  from  his  pen — a 
pen  which  one  could  almost  fancy  he  had  dipped  in  his 
heart's  blood,  so  do  the  passionate  words  of  appeal  for 
freedom  and  courage  burn  on  the  paper  and  vibrate  un- 
ceasingly in  the  hands  of  Irishmen.  As  a  politician  Davis's 
influence,  though  subtler  and  less  conspicuous,  was  none 
the  less  surely  felt.  Few  statesmen  have  commanded  so 
completely  the  confidence  of  their  friends  and  the  respect 
of  their  enemies.  The  severest  trial  to  Davis  during  his 
political  career  was  the  painful  separation  of  his  party  from 
O'Connell,  whom  he  reverenced  and  esteemed.  In  1845, 
at  a  period  when  his  counsel  and  support  was  most  needed 
by  his  party,  Davis  was,  unhappily,  attacked  by  fever  and 
died,  leaving  a  terribly  vacant  place  among  Ireland's  de- 
fenders, which  none  of  his  contemporaries  were  (iapable  of 
filling.  In  his  youth  he  had  studied  the  Irish  language, 
and  always  advocated  its  instruction  among  Irish  people; 
he  regarded  it  as  a  great  National  possession,  especially  to 
be  treasured  at  a  time  when  so  few  relics  were  left  to  the 
people  to  remind  them  of  their  early  freedom. 

Had  Davis  never  written  one  of  the  stirring  ballads  so 
dear  to  patriotism,  he  would  still  have  earned  for  himself 
fame  as  a  love  poet.     Perhaps,  had  he  lived  to  an  old  age 


THOMA  S  DA  VIS.  137 

in  some  peaceful  corner  of  the  earth,  undisturbed  by  the 
fierce  husthng  of  party  strife,  nor  chafed  by  the  constant 
sight  of  unavenged  wrongs,  he  might  still  have  left  a  name 
among  the  first  poets  of  the  world;  but  heaven,  which  en- 
dowed him  with  his  genius,  bestowed  on  him  a  heart  filled 
with  the  keenest  sympathy  for  his  suffering  country.  He 
spent  his  share  of  the  sacred  fire  perhaps  with  prodigality, 
but  he  did  the  work  which  seemed  best  to  his  conscience; 
and  short  as  was  his  appointed  time,  the  fruits  of  his  labor 
will  blossom  year  after  year,  so  long  as  the  Irish  race  con- 
tinues, and  hearts  as  true  as  his  live  to  follow  in  his  steps. 

Nothing  is  more  deeply  associated  with  Davis's  name 
than  the  foundation  of  the  Nation  newspaper.  That  morn- 
ing walk  of  Davis  and  Dillon  and  Duffy  in  the  Phoenix 
Park,  that  morning  talk  "  under  a  noble  elm,  within  view 
of  the  Park  gate  leading  to  the  city,"  was  the  beginning  of 
a  new  order  of  things  in  Ireland.  The  actual  proposition 
of  a  weekly  newspaper  seems  to  have  come  from  Duffy, 
but  the  name  was  given  by  Davis*,  and  though  the  editor- 
ship was  assigned  to  Duffy,  "as  the  most  experienced  in 
journalism,"  Davis,  Sir  Charles  himself  declares,  "  was  our 
true  leader."  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy's  own  description 
of  Davis  justifies  and,  indeed,  commands  quotation,  for  it 
seems  to  bring  the  man  himself  before  us,  as  only  the  de- 
scription of  a  contemporary  can  ever  hope  to  do.  Sir 
Charles  Gavan  Duffy  is  like  the  man  in  Landor's  poem  whom 
"  God  has  lived  with  and  has  loved,"  and  he  has  enriched 
the  literature  of  his  country  by  the  portraits  he  has  drawn 
of  the  high  companionship  in  which  his  youth  was  passed. 

"  Davis  was  a  man  of  middle  stature,  strongly  but  not 
coarsely  built,  with  a  complexion  to  which  habitual  exercise, 
for  he  was  a  great  walker,  and  habitual  temperance  gave  a 
healthy  glow.  A  broad  brow  and  strong  jaw  stamped  his 
face  with    a   character  of  power,  but  except  when  it  was 


138  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

lighted  by  thought  or  feeling  it  was  plain  and  even  rugged. 
His  carriage  was  not  good;  a  peculiar  habit  of  leaning 
towards  you  in  familiar  conversation,  arising  from  the 
eagerness  of  his  nature,  gave  him  the  appearance  of  a 
stoop,  and  he  dressed  and  walked  as  carelessly  as  a  student 
is  apt  to  do.  But  his  glance  was  frank  and  direct  as  a  sun- 
beam, he  had  a  cordial  and  winning  laugh,  the  prevailing 
expression  of  his  face  was  open  and  genial,  and  his  voice 
had  tones  of  sympathy  which  went  straight  to  the  heart." 

"  He  was  at  that  time,"  says  Mr.  Madden,  speaking  of  a 
period  a  couple  of  years  earlier  than  the  establishment  of 
the  Nation^  "  as  delightful  a  young  man  as  it  was  possible 
to  meet  with  in  any  country.  He  was  much  more  joyous 
when  he  became  immersed  in  practical  politics.  His  good 
spirits  did  not  seem,  however,  so  much  the  consequence  of 
youth  and  health  as  of  his  moral  nature.  His  cheerful- 
ness was  less  the  result  of  temperament  than  that  of  his 
sanguine  philosophy  and  of  his  wholesome,  happy  views  of 
life.  The  sources  of  enjoyment  were  abundant  to  a  man 
of  his  large  faculties,  highly  cultivated,  possessing  withal 
a  body  which  supplied  him  with  vigor  and  energy." 

Such  is  the  likeness,  clearly  and  distinctly  painted,  of 
the  man  who  awoke  in  Ireland  a  new  life,  and  whose  pre- 
mature death  was  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  many  catastro- 
phies  that  afflicted  her  history.  Davis's  life,  brief  though 
it  was,  materially  altered  the  course  of  Ireland's  history. 
It  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  estimate  how  far,  had  his 
life  been  longer,  he  might  have  influenced  and  altered  the 
course  of  that  particular  portion  of  her  history  of  which  he 
was  the  central  and  the  serenest  figure.  "  This  calamity 
makes  the  world  look  black,"  wrote  John  Dillon,  when  he 
heard  of  Davis's  death.  The  world  was  indeed  black,  for 
long  enough,  to  Ireland  afterwards. 

AVe  have  all  our  partialities  in  the  study  of  our  favorite 


THOMA  S  DA  VIS.  139 

poets.     The  poem  of  Davis's  which  is  more  dear  to  me  per- 
sonally is  that  on  the  grave  of  Wolfe  Tone: 

In  Bodenstown  churchyard  there  is  a  green  grave, 
And  wildly  along  it  the  winter  winds  rave; 
Small  shelter  I  ween  are  the  ruined  walls  there 
When  the  storm  sweeps  down  on  the  plains  of  Kildare." 

The  first  time  I  ever  stood  by  Tone's  grave  was  on  a  day 
such  as  seemed  to  chime  in  most  fitly  with  the  poet's  words. 
It  was  a  chill,  gray  day,  with  driving  rain,  which  soaked  the 
rank  grass  of  the  little  churchyard  and  drowned  the  fallen 
autumnal  leaves  and  washed  the  slab  with  its  wild  tears. 
The  scene,  the  time,  the  very  tempest  seemed  in  melan- 
choly harmony  with  Davis's  song.  Ireland  was  passing 
then  through  one  of  her  darkest  hours,  and  that  lonely 
grave,  that  ruined  place  of  death,  the  wet  earth  and  weeping 
skies,  and  the  desolate  autumn  wind  which  piped  through 
the  dripping  trees,  the  plaintive  dirge-like  music  of  Davis's 
verse,  all  these  seemed  emblematic  of  Ireland's  suifering, 
of  her  wrongs,  her  isolation.  The  last  time  I  stood  by  the 
grave  the  scene  was  strangely  different.  It  was  autumn, 
indeed,  but  a  soft  air,  as  of  earlier  spring,  reigned  over  the 
Kildare  meadows.  The  sun  shone  brightly  on  the  grass- 
grown  mounds  that  rise  and  fall  like  the  waves  of  a  little 
sea  about  the  ancient  walls,  whose  crumbling  outline  gained 
a  strange  splendor  in  that  golden  light.  The  grave  itself 
was  dry  and  clear,  its  inscriptions  distinct.  Some  reverent 
hands  had  suspended  little  relics  on  the  railings  that  protect 
it.  Above  stretched  a  summer  sky;  below  the  green  earth 
seemed  rather  to  be  instinct  with  the  quickening  pulses  of  a 
new  year  than  to  bear  on  its  fair  face  the  fading  lineaments 
of  autumn.  The  aspect  of  the  place  was  propitious, 
benignly  ominous.  Ireland  had  escaped  from  her  sojourn 
in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death ;  her  future  was  widen- 


140 


HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 


ing  out  before  her  fair  with  hope  and  bright  with  promise; 
it  was  the  dawn  of  a  new  era  which  I  seemed  to  witness  as 
I  stood  beside  Tone's  grave  on  that  divine  day  when 
autumn  wore  the  guise  of  spring,  and  when  the  wind  which 
rivalled  summer's  seem  to  bear  as  its  burden  those  brighter 
lines: 

'*  Sweet,  sweet,  'tis  to  find  that  such  faith  can  remain 
To  the  cause  and  the  man  so  long  vanquished  and  slain." 

Davis's  own  grave  does  not  quite  realize  the  exquisite  pict- 
ure which  he  had  painted  for  all  time  of  his  own  ideal  rest- 
ing place.  His  country  could  hardly  be  expected  to  obey 
his  desire  that  no  stone  should  mark  his  resting  place,  but 
his  epitaph  is  indeed  writ  o;i  his  country's  mind, 

"  He  served  his  country  and  loved  his  kind," 

and  better  epitaph  no  Irishman,  no  man,  could  desire  to 
have. 


THOMAS  FRANCIS  MEAGHER. 

The  ceremonial  which  took  place  in  Waterford  last  Sun- 
day was  significant  in  the  extreme — significant  of  much 
which  hitherto  the  majority  of  Englishmen  have  been  un- 
able to  understand  or  appreciate.  Englishmen  as  a  whole 
have  regarded  each  successive  effort  of  the  Irish  people — 
now  by  constitutional  means,  now  by  more  desperate  meas- 
ures— to  obtain  some  redress  for  their  intolerable  wrongs, 
not  as  successive  phases  and  developments  of  the  one  distinct 
National  purpose,  but  as  so  many  separate,  incoherent,  un- 
attached and  unnatural  outbursts  of  unprincipled  and  un- 
reasonable disaffection.  It  would  be  superfluous  for  any 
Irishman  to  remind  Irishmen  of  the  extraordinary  political 
folly  of  such  a  mistake,  but  it  is  only  quite  lately  that  any 
large  bulk  of  Englishmen  have  appeared  to  recognize 
frankly  the  fact  that  the  progressive  generations  of  Irish 
protest  are  linked  together  in  a  sequence  as  united  as  that 
of  the  most  enduring  dynasty  of  monarchs  that  history 
affords  any  example  of.  This  is  the  secret  of  that  devo- 
tion, so  bewildering  to  Englishmen  who  have  tried  to  rule 
Ireland,  which  the  Irish  people  bear  to  the  heroes  and 
martyrs  of  the  various  struggles  for  their  country's  right  to 
be  free.  The  men  of  Forty-eight,  the  men  of  Ninety-eight, 
the  men  of  Eighty-two  are  as  dear  to  the  Irishmen  of  to-day 
as  they  were  when  the  Nation*s  first  number  animated 
'*  Young  Ireland,"  when  Wolfe  Tone  organized  the  "  United 
Irishmen,"  and  when  the  Volunteers  rallied  at  Dungannon 
to  make  the  dream  of  Grattan  and  of  Flood  a  living  and 
abiding  reality. 


143  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

The  affection,  however,  which  the  Irish  people  feel  for 
the  memories  of  the  men  of  Forty-eight  may  well  be  pecu- 
liarly warm  and  deep.  Forty-eight  is  not  so  far  removed 
from  the  youngest  of  the  existing  generation  of  Irishmen 
but  that  he  may  feel  himself,  as  it  were,  bound  thereto  by 
bonds  of  almost  personal  association.  Some  of  the  men 
who  made  that  time  still  live  and  look  upon  the  earth. 
The  last  Parliament,  the  Parliament  in  which  for  the  first  time 
the  doctrines  of  Home  Rule  were  adopted  by  an  English 
Prime  Minister,  contained  among  its  members  one  who  had 
played  a  not  insignificant  part  in  the  history  of  *' Young 
Ireland."  The  brilliant  historian,  too,  of  that  stirring 
epoch  was  himself  one  of  its  leaders  and  the  colleague  of 
Dillon  and  of  Davis  in  the  foundation  of  the  Nation. 
Others  have  not  long  been  taken  from  the  world.  It  is  not 
so  long  since  John  Mitchell  came  back  from  his  long  exile  to 
receive  the  reverent  homage  of  a  New  Ireland,  and  to  sleep 
at  last  within  hearing  of  those  breezes  which  he  loved  best 
in  all  the  world — the  breezes  that  sang  through  the  beaches 
and  sycamores  of  old  Rostrevor,  It  is  twenty  years  since 
John  Dillon,  grave,  stately,  handsomest  of  men,  died  just 
on  the  eve  of  the  realization  of  his  dream  of  an  alliance  be- 
tween Irish  Nationalism  and  English  Liberalism,  died  and 
was  eulogized  by  the  same  statesman  who  now  can  find  no 
fairer  enjoyment  for  his  fading  eloquence  than  virulent  in- 
vective against  the  party  and  the  cause  with  which  the  son 
of  John  Dillon  is  associated. 

Small  wonder  if  the  men  of  Forty-eight  are  dear  to  the 
Irishmen  of  Eighty-six.  The  fathers  of  this  generation 
were  the  friends,  the  allies,  the  followers  of  O'Brien,  and 
Meagher,  and  Dillon,  and  Mitchell,  and  the  rest.  To  the 
young  men  of  to-day  their  names  are  almost  as  the  names 
of  friends;  they  seem,  in  the  experiences  of  those  near  and 
dear  to  them,  to  live  over  for  themselves  these  fervent  years, 


THOMA  S  FRA  NCIS  ME  A  GHER.  143 

to  look  upon  its  leaders  face  to  face,  to  stretch  out  their 
hands  in  answer  to  the  impassioned  appeal  of  Mitchell,  or 
to  listen  with  beating  heart  while  the  eloquence  of  Meagher, 
inspired  almost  to  prophecy  by  the  presence  of  death,  stirs 
the  silence  of  Clonmel  Courthouse.  The  other  heroes  of 
Irish  history  are  so  far  removed  that  they  appear  almost  to  be 
invested  with  superhuman  attributes,  to  be  endowed  with 
those  higher  and  serener  faculties  which  the  fancy  of  an 
earlier  age  attributed  to  the  demigods.  But  the  men  of 
Forty-eight  are  of  our  own  flesh  and  blood;  we  have  held  the 
hands  and  listened  to  the  speech  of  some  of  them;  our  sires 
were  their  companions,  their  champions  and  their  friends. 
There  enters,  therefore,  a  personal  element  into  all  tributes 
to  their  work  and  their  memory  which  must  be  absent  from 
the  most  reverent  homage  to  the  men  of  an  earlier,  if  even 
of  a  greater  age. 

In  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  spots  in  Dublin  stands  a 
statue  erected  to  the  memory  of  'William  Smith  O'Brien, 
the  high-souled,  chivalrous  gentleman  who  was  recognized 
as  the  leader  of  the  agitation  of  1848.  That  statue  is,  I  be- 
lieve, the  only  one  that  has  been  raised  in  Ireland  to  the 
memory  of  any  of  the  men  of  the  Young  Ireland  movement. 
Ireland,  unhappily  for  herself,  has  had  something  else  to 
think  of  than  the  raising  of  monuments  to  her  illustrious  dead. 
It  is  one  of  the  remarkable  proofs  of  her  patient,  unwearying 
patriotism  that  she  has  been  able  to  do  so  much,  and  that 
in  the  worst  times  of  her  poverty  and  oppression  she  has 
had  the  energy  and  self-sacrificing  generosity  to  keep  alive 
in  the  midst  of  her  own  immediate  struggles  the  memory  of 
many  who  were  the  heroes  of  earlier  efforts.  I  have  often 
thought  that  the  presence  in  Dublin  streets  of  that  statue  to 
Smith  O'Brien,  so  close  to  the  bridge  which  once  bore  the 
name  of  an  English  Lord  Lieutenant,  and  which  now  bears 
the  name  of  an  Irish  patriot,  and  within  twenty  minutes* 


144  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

walk  of  the  Castle  itself,  ought  to  offer  to  any  intelligent 
foreigner  one  of  the  most  remarkable  proofs  he  could  de- 
sire of  the  vitality  of  Ireland's  patriotism,  and  of  the  justice 
of  a  cause  which  could  foster  and  inspire  such  vitality.  But 
at  this  present  time  the  statue  of  one  Young  Irelander  is 
not  enough  for  Ireland,  and  I  sincerely  hope  and  very  de- 
voutly believe  that  the  hope  which  my  friend,  Mr.  Leamy, 
M.  P.,  expressed  so' eloquently  last  Sunday  may  speedily 
be  realized,  and  that  in  a  very  short  time  the  streets  of 
Waterford  may  boast  a  statue  to  Thomas  Francis  Meagher. 
Thomas  Francis  Meagher  was  born  in  Waterford,  in  the 
city  which  has  just  been  paying  so  profoundly  impressive 
a  tribute  to  his  memory,  on  the  23rd  of  August,  1823.  He 
was  educated  at  Clongowes  and  at  Stonyhurst.  A  Hfe  of 
Meagher,  published  many  years  ago,  and  now  long  since 
out  of  print,  gives  some  amusing  accounts  of  his  early  days 
at  the  shrine  of  learning  which  was  once  the  family  seat  of 
the  Browns,  of  Kildare.  •  The  author  of  the  life  appears  to 
have  been  a  school-fellow  of  Meagher's,  and  to  speak  of 
him  from  personal  experience.  "  Thomas  Francis  Meagher, 
as  I  remember  him,"  he  says,  "was  a  diligent  student, 
much  beloved  by  his  companions,  and  a  favorite  with  his 
superiors.  To  conciliate,  to  win  the  regards  of  the  latter, 
was  never  with  him  an  object  of  ambition;  on  the  contrary, 
I  have  known  him  in  a  football  match  to  let  fly  deliberately 
at  a  master's  shins  rather  than  at  the  ball.  On  one  occa- 
sion, on  account  of  some  breach  of  discipline,  the  prefect 
locked  him  up  in  his  room  during  play-time,  and  Meagher, 
not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity,  passed  the  time  very 
agreeably  in  sharpening  said  prefect's  razors  upon  the 
granite  window-sill."  Meagher  did  not,  however,  waste 
the  whole  of  his  time  in  sharpening  razors,  plundering 
orchards,  or  carving  his  name  on  the  trunks  of  the  fine  old 
Congowes  trees.     "  Though  fond  of  play — and  he  played 


THOMAS  FRANCIS  MEAGHER,  145 

with  a  will — lie  was  not,"  says  his  biographer,  "  an  idler  in 
any  sense.  If  sometimes  he  neglected  his  school-books, 
the  reason  would  be  found  to  lie  in  too  close  application  to 
his  music-books."  It  was  the  debating  society  at  Clon- 
gowes  which  first  awoke  in  him  a  distinct  taste  for  oratory. 
After  he  left  Stonyhurst  the  young  Meagher  went  for  a 
journey  up  the  Rhine  and  in  Belgium,  where  he  studied 
with  great  care  the  flourishing  Flemish  cities  which  in  their 
serene  self-centred  prosperity  afforded  such  a  melancholy 
contrast  to  the  condition  of  the  cities  and  towns  of  his  native 
country. 

Meagher's  first  connection  with  public  life  begins  with 
the  date  of  Davis's  death.  At  the  time  when  all  Ireland 
was  thrilled  with  pain  over  the  loss  of  her  poet,  Meagher 
wrote  to  Duffy,  who  was  editing  the  Nation^  expressing  his 
profound  sympathy,  and  asking  to  be  permitted  to  co-operate 
in  raising  a  monument  to  Davis's  memory.  "He  was  at 
that  time,"  writes  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy,  "a  youth  of 
two-and-twenty,  who  had  scarcely  heard  his  own  voice  except 
in  a  college  debating  society,  and  had  not  written  a  line  for 
the  public  beyond  one  feeble  copy  of  verses  in  the  Nation. 
But  there  was  a  mesmerism  in  his  language  which  touched 
me.  I  speedily  made  his  personal  acquaintance,  and  soon 
had  the  happiness  of  counting  him  among  my  friends."  As 
usual,  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy's  description  of  a  colleague 
impresses  the  reader  with  a  profound  sense  of  realistic  por- 
traiture. *'  Meagher,"  he  says,  "  was  middle-sized  and 
well-made.  The  lines  of  his  face  were  so  round  as  to  give 
it  the  character  of  languor  and  innocence,  till  it  was  lighted 
up  with  enthusiasm,  when  it  became  impassioned  and  im- 
pressive. His  voice  was  not  rich  nor  flexible,  but  the 
genuine  feeling  with  which  he  was  m.oved  rendered  it  an 
instrument  fit  to  express  a  wide  range  of  emotion  and  pas- 
sion with  astonishing  power.      In  private  he  was   a  fast 


146  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

friend  and  a  man  of  steady  honor,  but  though  he  had  a 
buoyant  and  enjoying  disposition  he  was  not  eminent  for 
social  any  more  than  for  colloquial  endowments.  His  rare 
and  splendid  gifts  were  seen  only  in  the  tribune.  To  the 
common  eye,  indeed,  the  new  recruit  was  a  dandified 
youngster,  with  a  languid  air  and  mincing  accent  obviously 
derived  from  an  English  education;  but  this  was  a  vulgar 
error;  nature  had  made  him  a  great  orator  and  training  had 
made  him  an  accomplished  gentleman." 

The  "new  recruit"  soon  proved  himself  to  be  of  the 
utmost  service  to  the  cause  he  had  espoused.  Sir  Charles 
tells  us  that  he  was  never  of  much  value  in  the  counsels 
of  the  party,  and  that  he  was  not,  even  when  at  the  height 
of  his  reputation,  a  leader  in  its  cabinet.  But  the  magic 
of  his  eloquence  was  the  best  ally  that  the  Young  Ireland 
cause  possessed.  At  that  time  the  fervid,  impassioned, 
glowingly  poetic  oratory  of  the  star-crossed  Girondists,  and 
especially  of  Vergniaud,  were  the  inspiration  and  the  admira- 
tion of  the  youthful  orators  of  the  Young  Ireland  move- 
ment. Meagher,  like  many  others,  modelled  himself  at 
first  very  largely  upon  Vergniaud.  He  even,  we  are  told, 
in  latter  times  studied  the  showy,  glittering,  and,  if  super- 
ficial, curiously  attractive  oratory  of  that  strange  being  who 
strove  to  be  at  once  a  great  poet,  a  great  novelist,  and  a 
great  politician,  and  who  is  now  almost  forgotten,  Lamar- 
tine.  But  the  genius  of  Meagher  soon  compelled  him  to 
outstrip  and  to  surpass  his  models  and  his  masters.  The 
brightest  effort  of  the  Gironde  is  not  equal  to  the  eloquence 
of  the  Young  Irishman  who  at  an  age  little  beyond  that  of 
boyhood  was  to  so  seriously  compete  for  the  palm  of  oratory 
with  Grattan,  and  Curran,  and  Burke.  Unfortunately  for 
Meagher  his  voice,  like  that  of  his  three  great  countrymen, 
was  not  in  his  favor.  "  It  was  like  listening  to  the  mys- 
tical, sonorous  music  of  the  *'  Revolt  of  Islam,"  recited  in 


THOMAS  FRANCIS  MEAGHER, 


147 


Shelley's  shrill  treble,  to  hear  Meagher  pour  out  passion, 
and  pathos,  and  humor  in  tones  which  possessed  no  note 
in  perfection  but  intensity."  But  the  intensity  was  enough 
to  drive  those  enchanted  words  home  to  the  very  hearts  of 
their  hearers.  Those  enchanted  words  still  live.  The 
volume  that  contains  them  is  one  of  the  most  priceless  pos- 
sessions that  oratory  has  given  to  the  world.  It  is,  indeed, 
difificult  to  speak  of  Meagher's  speeches  with  words  of  ad- 
miration sufficiently  measured  to  prevent  them  passing  into 
the  language  of  hyperbole.  To  read  those  speeches  is  to 
understand  even  more  than  Greece  or  Rome  can  make  us 
understand  the  magic  of  inspired  eloquence,  of  what  a  re- 
cent American  writer,  Mr.  T.  B.  Aldrich,  calls  the  **  glori- 
ous gift  of  speaking  golden  words  with  a  golden  tongue." 

Meagher  was  soon  setting  the  hearts  of  vast  audiences  on 
fire  with  his  impassioned  periods.  If  Thomas  Davis  was 
the  poet  of  Young  Ireland,  Meagher  was  Young  Ireland's 
orator.  A  writer,  a  historian  who  of  late  days  has  shown 
but  Uttle  sympathy  with  Ireland,  is  roused  with  a  gleam  of 
positive  enthusiasm  by  Thomas  Francis  Meagher,  "  a  young 
man,"  says  Mr.  Lecky,  "whose  eloquence  was  beyond 
comparison  superior  to  that  of  any  other  rising  speaker  in 
the  country,  and  who,  had  he  been  placed  in  circumstances 
favorable  to  the  development  of  his  talent,  might,  perhaps, 
at  length  have  taken  his  place  among  the  great  orators  of 
Ireland."  Meagher  early  endeared  himself  to  the  impetu- 
ous and  gifted  young  men  with  whom  he  had  allied  by  a 
brilliant  speech  against  O'Connell's  doctrine  of  passive  re- 
sistance, which  is  the  most  famous  of  all  his  utterances. 
'*I  am  not  one  of  those  tame  moralists,"  the  young  man 
exclaimed,  *'  who  say  that  liberty  is  not  worth  one  drop  of 
blood.  .  .  .  Against  this  miserable  maxim  the  noble 
virtue  that  has  saved  and  sanctified  humanity  appears  in 
judgment.     From  the  blue  waters  of-  the  Bay  of  Salamis; 


148  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN, 

from  the  valley  over  which  the  sun  stood  still  and  lit  the 
Israelites  to  victory;  from  the  cathedral   in  which  the  sword 
of  Poland  has  been  sheathed  in  the  shroud  of  Kosciusko; 
from  the  Convent  of  St.  Isidore,  where  the  fiery  hand  that 
rent  the  ensign  of  St.  George  upon  the  plains  of  Ulster  has 
mouldered  into  dust;  from  the  sands  of  the  desert,  where 
the  wild  genius  of  the  Algerine  so  long  has  scared  the  eagle 
of  the  Pyrenees;  from  the  ducal  palace  in  this  kingdom, 
where  the  memory  of  the  gallant  and  seditious  Geraldine 
enhances  more  than  royal  favor  the  splendor  of  his  race; 
from  the  solitary  grave  within  this  mute  city  which  a  dying 
bequest  has  left  without  an  epitaph— oh!  from  every  spot 
where  heroism  has  had  a    sacrifice  or  a  triumph,  a  voice 
breaks   in    upon   the    cringing    crowd    that   cherishes   this 
maxim,  crying,  *  Away  with    it— away  with  it.'"     This  is 
undoubtedly  the  finest  passage  to  be  found  in  all  Meagher's 
utterances;  that  which  comes  next  to  it  is  the  speech  spoken 
in  graver  and  more  tragic  tones,  when  the  hopes  of  Young 
Ireland  were  in  the  dust,  and  when  Meagher,  standing  in 
the  Courthouse  of  Clonmel,  looked  calmly  in  the  face  of, 
as  he   believed,  impending   imminent   death.      This  swan- 
song  of  his  political  oratory,  this  speech  from  the  dock,  was 
worthy  of  his  rhetorical  genius— ''I  am  not  here  to  crave 
with  faltering  lip  the  life  I  have  consecrated  to  the  inde- 
pendence of  my  country.     *     *     *     I  offer  to  my  country, 
as  some  proof  of  the  sincerity  with  which  I  have  thought 
and  spoken  and  struggled  for  her,  the  life  of  a  young  heart. 
*     *     *     The  history  of   Ireland  explains  my  crime   and 
justifies  it.     Even  here,  where  the  shadows  of  death  sur- 
round me,  and  from  which  I  see  my  early  grave  opening 
for  me  in  no  consecrated  soil,  the  hope  which  beckoned  me 
forth  on  that  perilous  sea  whereon  I  have  been  wrecked, 
animates,  consoles,  enraptures  me.      No,  I  don't  despair 
of  my  poor  country,  her  peace,  her  liberty,  her  glory!" 


THOMA  S  FRA  NCIS  ME  A  GHER.  149 

Meagher  was  transported,  he  escaped  from  transporta- 
tion, made  his  way  to  America,  entered  the  Federal  army, 
and  distinguished  himself  during  the  civil  war  as  a  true  and 
gallant  soldier.  The  green  flag,  which  it  had  been  the 
dream  of  his  youth  to  fight  for  in  Irish  fields  and  upon  Irish 
hillsides,  fluttered  often  enough  over  his  head  when,  in  the 
garb  of  a  Federal  officer,  he  led  his  men  time  and  again 
against  the  Confederate  intrenchments.  His  end  was, 
satirically,  cruelly  inappropriate  to  such  a  life.  The  man 
who  had  been  sentenced  to  death  as  an  Irish  rebel,  who  had 
braved  death  over  and  over  again  for  a  foreign  service,  and 
in  a  foreign  place,  was  destined  to  die  ingloriously  the  vic- 
tim of  an  unhappy  accident.  "  He  fell  from  the  deck  of  a 
steamer  one  night;  it  was  dark,  and  there  was  a  strong  cur- 
rent running;  help  came  too  late.  A  false  step,  a  dark 
night  and  the  muddy  waters  of  the  Missouri  closed  the 
career  that  had  opened  with  so  much  promise  of  bright- 
ness." So  writes  one  who  knew  Meagher  in  the  flesh. 
We,  such  of  us  as  only  know  him  by  tradition,  may  grieve 
indeed  for  that  untimely  death,  but  we  can  only  rejoice  that 
heaven  in  its  justice  granted  to  a  good  cause  so  much  genius, 
so  much  courage,  and  such  unrivalled  eloquence. 


CHARLES  LEVER. 

Lever  occupies  something  of  the  same  place  in  relation 
to  Ireland  that  Scott  occupies  to  Scotland;  but  Ireland,  un- 
fortunately, has  not  the  same  reasons  for  being  grateful  to 
Lever  that  Scotland  has  for  being  grateful  to  Scott.  In 
one  sense  the  curse  of  Swift  was  upon  Lever;  he  was  **  a 
man  of  genius  and  an  Irishman,"  but,  though  his  genius 
made  him  famous  all  the  world  over,  and  though  he  created 
an  Ireland  for  fiction  as  Scott  created  a  Scotland  for  fiction, 
the  result  of  the  two  men's  labors  is  very  different.  The 
Scotland  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  is  a  faithful  picture  of  the 
Scotland  of  his  time.  The  "  Waverly  Novels,"  where  they 
treat  of  Scotland,  are  as  serviceable  as  so  many  blue-books 
to  the  historical  student.  Even  where  they  are  most  humor- 
ous they  never  fail  to  be  most  truthful,  and  their  picture  of 
Scottish  virtues  is  as  faithful  and  as  honorable  as  the  pictures 
of  Scotch  failings  are  severe  in  their  masterly  satire.  The 
Scotland  of  Scott  is  no  Cloud-Cuckoo-Town,  no  Utopia,  no 
**  Land  East  of  the  Sun,  West  of  the  Moon"  in  which  the 
delighted  traveler  wanders  and  wonders  and  knows  that  he 
treads  the  dissolving  mazes  of  fairyland.  The  same  cannot, 
unhappily,  be  said  of  Lever.  The  Scotland  of  Scott  is  em- 
phatically Scotland,  the  Ireland  of  Lever  is  emphatically 
not  Ireland. 

Indeed,  from  a  National  point  of  view.  Irishmen  may  be 
said  to  owe  Lever  a  grudge  for  his  method  of  presenting  his 
country  and  his  countrymen.  It  can  hardly  be  doubted 
that  many  of  the  absolutely  and  even  ludicrously  false  im- 
pressions which  Englishmen  have  formed  of  Ireland  and  of 


CHA  RLE  S  LE  VER.  151 

Irishmen  are  due  pretty  directly  to  the  teaching  afforded 
by  Lever's  novels.  Except  in  the  rarest  cases,  the  serious 
sides  of  Irish  Hfe  and  character,  the  characteristic  national 
good  which  generations  and  centuries  of  oppression  had 
generated,  is  ignored  by  Lever.  Of  the  Irish  gentleman, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  "  Free  Companions,"  he  can 
afford  example  enough  and  to  spare.  Riotous  Trinity 
students  living  in  a  mad  world  of  endless  practical  jokes, 
gallant  dragoons  who  ride  and  make  love,  and  fight  duels, 
and  sabre  the  enemies  of  England,  and  drink  whiskey 
punch  with  the  energy  and  the  appetite  and  unconquerable 
digestions  of  the  brood  of  giants,  are  merry  men  enough  to 
meet  with  in  literature,  and  the  humanities  who,  with  a  long 
interval  between,  do  in  some  measure  approach  to  their 
titanic  good  spirits  are  pleasant  folk  indeed.  But  these 
Gargantuan  good  fellows,  drawn  with  a  reckless  freedom 
of  hand  which  makes  Dugald  Dalgetty  seem  but  a  starve- 
ling, are  not  quite  the  typical  Irishmen  that  it  has  pleased 
so  many  strangers  to  consider  them.  Even  in  the  wildest 
wickedest  days  of  Hell-Fire  Clubbism  there  were  Irish  gen- 
tlemen whose  lives  did  not  consist  solely  in  riding  Mod- 
deriddero  and  rolling  down  civic  stairs  on  to  the  plump 
forms  of  recumbent  aldermen,  and  in  pointing  out  the  advan- 
tages of  a  sherry  decanter  aimed  low  as  an  instrument  of 
repartee.  I  do  not  mean  to  maintain  that  Lever  has  never 
drawn  Irish  gentlemen  otherwise  than  thus  employed,  but 
I  do  mean  to  say  that  such  is  the  impression  of  the  tastes, 
manners  and  customs  of  Irish  gentlemen  which  he  has  made 
upon  the  minds  of  many  who,  in  the  severe  irony  of  des- 
tiny, have  been  called  upon  to  play  their  part  in  administer- 
ing the  affairs  of  Ireland  to  her. 

What  is  true  of  Lever's  Irish  gentlemen  is  equally  true 
of  Lever's  Irish  peasants.  They  are  far  too  much  stage 
peasants;  they  are  more  closely  related  to  the   Myles-na- 


152  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

Copaleen  of  the  stage  than  to  the  Myles-na-Copaleen  of 
Gerald  Griffin's  story.  Mickey  Free  deserves  his  place  in 
literature  with  Sam  Weller  and  Sam  Slick,  with  Ritchie, 
Moniplies,  and  Scapin,  but  he  has  been  too  generally  ac- 
cepted by  the  inexperienced  English  reader  as  the  type  of 
a  whole  race.  Something  of  the  perverseness  with  which 
Irish  things  have  been  regarded  in  England  is  due  to  Lever. 
He  was  a  brilliant  writer,  he  was  in  his  way  a  great  novelist, 
and,  therefore,  a  great  Irishman.  But  the  Irishman  who 
enjoys  Lever's  novels  enjoys  them,  as  it  were,  from  a 
cosmopolitan  point  of  view.  He  laughs  at  them,  or  is 
touched  by  them,  as  in  his  youth  he  laughed  over  the  nursery 
rhyme,  or  was  touched  by  the  fairy  tale.  But  he  cannot 
recognize  that  they  are  in  any  sense  true  presentments  of 
his  country,  or  that  regarded  in  that  aspect  his  country  has 
any  deep  reason  to  be  grateful  to  Lever. 

Looking  upon  Lever,  however,  merely  as  the  romancist 
pure  and  simple^  reading  him  with  the  same  unimpassioned 
impartiality  which  we  give  to  Scott  or  Dickens,  or  the 
''Arabian  Nights,"  we  may  fairly  recognize  his  marvellous 
ability,  his  inimitable  humor,  his  rare  power  of  creating  cer- 
tain characters  and  of  making  "the  idle  puppets  of  his 
dreams  "  seem  for  the  hour  to  be  living,  breathing  entities. 
Lever's  place  in  the  literature  of  his  age  has  been  thus  de- 
fined by  a  not  unfriendly  critic  of  the  '^  rattling  romance  of 
Irish  electioneering,  love-making  and  fighting  which  set 
people  reading  Charles  O'Malley,  and  Jack  Hinton,  even 
when  *  Pickwick '  was  still  a  novelty."  "  Charles  Lever  had 
wonderful  animal  spirit,  and  a  broad,  bright  humor.  He 
was  quite  genuine  in  his  way.  He  afterwards  changed  his 
style  completely  and  with  much  success;  and  will  be  found 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  period  holding  just  the  same  rela- 
tive place  as  in  the  earlier,  just  behind  the  foremost  men, 
but  in  manner  so  different  that  he  might  be  a  new  writer. 


CHA  RLES  LE  VER.  1 5  3 

who  had  never  read  a  line  of  the  roystering  adventures  of 
light  dragoons  which  were  popular  when  Charles  Lever  first 
gave  them  to  the  world."  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
thing  in  the  whole  of  Lever's  long  and  successful  literary 
career  was  this  way  in  which  he  changed  his  style  so  com- 
pletely. It  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  "  That  Boy  of  Nor- 
cott's  "  is  by  the  author  of  '*  Tom  Burke  of  Ours,"  and 
that  the  "  Daltons  "  is  the  creation  of  the  same  mind  that 
envolved  "Harry  Lorrequer."  One  of  the  secrets  of 
Lever's  enduring  success  was  his  amazing  versatility. 

Once  again  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  the  surprising 
variety  of  Lever's  genius.  He  has  made  the  most  notable, 
indeed  I  may  say  the  only,  addition  in  our  time  to  the 
picturesque  in  literature.  ''Con  Cregan  "  is  the  adopted 
child  of  "  Gil  Bias,"  and  he  is  no  less  the  successor  through 
a  long  line  of  eccentric  ancestors  of  that  famous  rogue, 
Lazarillo  de  Tormes,  who  in  the  course  of  his  career  was  a 
blind  beggar's  guide,  a  cure's  varlet,  a  water  seller,  a  public 
crier,  a  marine  monster,  and  a  table  groom,  and  who  died 
at  last  a  hermit.  Many  a  book  has  been  written  in  the  Gusto 
Picaresco  or  Rogues'  manner  since  the  day  of  Mendoza. 
Gusman  D'Alfarache,  Marcus  de  Obregon,  the  twin  limp- 
ing devils  of  Velez  and  Le  Sage,  the  Garduna  de  Saville 
and  many  another  fill  the  list,  but  Lever's  book  may  hold 
its  own  with  the  best  of  them.  Before  "  Gil  Bias,"  indeed, 
his  illustrious  model,  "Con  Cregan,"  must  indeed  veil  his 
crown,  but  of  the  book  as  compared  with  all  its  rivals  we 
may  say,  as  Gines  de  Pasamonte  said  of  his  own  memoirs, 
"  so  good  is  it  that  a  fig  for  '  Lazarillo  de  Tormes,'  and  all 
of  that  kind  that  have  been  written,  or  shall  be  written, 
compared  with  it;  all  I  will  say  about  it  is  that  it  deals  with 
facts,  and  facts  so  neat  and  diverting  that  no  lies  could 
match  them." 

Seldom,  indeed,  has  a  better  book  of  adventure  been  put 


154  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

together.  From  first  page  to  last  the  astounding  episodes 
which  throng  the  life  of  "Con  Cregan "  are  delightful 
reading.  Footman,  horse  stealer,  wanderer,  audacious, 
unscrupulous,  ambitious  *' Con  Cregan"  is  the  well-nigh 
inimitable  type  of  the  adventurer,  the  ''  Wandering  Star  "  of 
civilization,  who,  with  many  of  the  attributes  of  the  ruffian 
and  most  of  the  qualities  of  the  rogue,  does  still  keep  him- 
self somehow  clear  of  the  guild  of  scoundreldom,  and  does 
somehow  manage  to  win  the  affections  of  those  who  fall  on 
his  drifting,  erratic  course.  It  is  impossible  to  be  angry 
with  "Con  Cregan,"  in  spite  of  his  shifts  and  dodges  and 
deceptions;  it  is  impossible  not  to  be  pleased  when  he  suc- 
ceeded at  last  to  wealth  and  rest  and  happiness.  There 
is  nothing  perverting  in  the  book,  nothing  that  could  do 
harm.  "Con  Cregan"  is  not  a  lofty  type  of  humanity, 
but  there  is  nothing  degrading,  nothing  vile  about  him ;  we 
can  shake  hands  with  him  cordially  at  parting  and  find  our 
palm  clean.  He  is  not  Don  Puixote  indeed;  he  is  not  ani- 
mated by  any  lofty  purpose  of  redressing  all  wrongs  and 
regenerating  the  world;  he  seems  to  ask  with  the  poet  of 
the  "  earthly  paradise" — 

"Why  should  I  strive  to  set  the  crooked  straight." 

But  we  do  not  feel  that  we  have  been  in  base  company 
while  we  have  sojourned  with  him  any  more  than  we  need 
feel  ashamed  of  being  seen  slipping  out  of  the  Spectators 
Club  in  the  company  of  AVill  Honeycomb.  One  of  the  most 
eloquent  moralists  of  our  time,  it  is  true,  has  denounced 
'  *Don  Quixote."  To  Mr.  Ruskin  it  is  an  objectionable 
book,  though  what  he  can  find  to  object  to  in  one  of  the 
noblest  figures  ever  traced  by  the  pen  of  fiction  passes  my 
comprehension.  On  the  other  hand,  we  find  Lamb,  "the 
frolic  and  gentle,"  one  of  the  purest  and  sweetest  souls 
that  haunt  the  Elysian  fields  of  literature,  raising  his  voice 


CHARLES  LEVER,  155 

in  a  kind  of  desperate  defence  of  the  heartless  monsters  of 
Restoration  comedy.  Yet  what  he  says,  of  his  fantastic 
charity,  in  their  defence,  might  well  be  cited  in  the  cause  of 
Con  Cregan,  and  for  the  matter  of  that  of  Gil  Bias  himself. 
**I  confess  for  myself,"  says  Elia,  "that — with  no  great 
delinquencies  to  answer  for — I  am  glad  for  a  season  to  take 
an  airing  beyond  the  diocese  of  the  strict  conscience — not 
to  live  always  in  the  precincts  of  the  law-courts — but  now 
and  then  for  a  dreamwhile  or  so,  to  imagine  a  world  with 
no  meddling  restrictions,  to  get  into  recesses  where  the 
hunter  cannot  follow  me — 


-Secret  shades 


Of  woody  Ida's  inmost  grove 

While  yet  there  was  no  fear  of  Jove." 

The  defence  will  not  pass  muster  with  the  rascals  of 
Wycherley  and  the  blackguard  rout  of  Congreve.  But 
with  Con  Cregan  as  with  Gil  Bias,  and  for  that  matter  Dick 
Swiveller,  we  can  blink  a  little  at  their  peccadilloes,  for  we 
feel  that  they  are  at  heart  good  fellows,  and  that  they  will 
end  decently  enough,  whether  it  be  beneath  the  shades  of 
Lirias  or  in  that  smoking  box  at  Hampstead,  "  the  envy  of 
the  civilized  world."  The  public  taste  for  the  novel  of  ad- 
venture seems  to  be  reviving  of  late,  a  healthy  sign  of  the 
literary  mood  of  the  day.  Well,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find  anywhere  within  the  range  of  recent  literature  a  better 
book  of  the  kind,  brighter,  readier,  or  more  entertaining 
than  "Con  Cregan." 

Oddly  akin  to  *'  Con  Cregan,"  and  yet  oddly  dissimilar, 
is  that  mirthful  story,  that  fool's  Odyssey  of  the  "  Day's  Ride 
and  a  Life's  Romance."  Mediaeval  epic  poets,  when  they 
got  tired  of  twisting  their  eternal,  long-winded  panegyrics  of 
Charlemagne,  and  Roland,  and  Oliver,  and  Turpin,  the 
Archbishop  and  the  twelve  peers,  sometimes  kicked  off  their 


156  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

solemn  vesture,  and  with  arms  akimbo,  leering  lips,  and 
laurel  wreath  set  rakishly  awry,  composed  comic  poems, 
broadly  burlesque  epics,  in  which  the  great  king  and  his 
heroic  companions  cut  pitiful  figures  enough,  and  become 
a  drunken,  thievish,  gluttonous,  vulgar  crew  of  coarse  com- 
panions. It  is  the  revolt  of  the  comic  muse  against  her 
solemn  sister,  it  is  the  protest  of  the  mirthful  force  against 
the  tragic  trappings  of  the  Homeric  guild.  Reverence  has 
been  revered  so  long  that  at  last  the  buffoon  rebel  Comedy 
asserts  herself,  and  splits  her  side  at  the  pageant  of  heroes. 
Laughter,"  according  to  Poe  in  most  of  his  most  fanciful 
moods,  was  inscribed  on  the  last  altar  left  standing  of  the 
ruined  Pantheon  of  an  older  world.  When  we  have  had  our 
champions,  and  worshipped  them  and  listened  to  their 
stately  tread  and  the  rattle  of  their  golden  armor,  Comedy, 
half  Puck  and  half  Thersites,  comes  on  the  stage,  too,  and 
makes  game  of  them.  Comic  cartoons  of  the  loveliest  of 
antique  legends  are  to  be  found  on  Pompeian  walls  and  the 
flanks  of  Grecian  wine  jars.  Leonardi  da  Vinci  caricatures 
Dante;  Pulci  parodies  Ariosto;  Scarron  pens  a  comic 
^neid,  the  Trouveres  deride  Charles  the  Great;  so,  too, 
Lever,  having  idealized  adventure  in  "  Con  Cregan,"  makes 
it  ludicrous  in  the  "  Day's  Ride." 

**  Count  no  man  happy  until  he  has  ceased  to  live,"  says 
the  Greek  proverb,  which  has  been  quoted  so  many  hundred 
thousand  times  since  the  Hellenic  philosopher  dashed  the 
spirits  of  the  Oriental  monarch  by  first  uttering  it.  This 
very  proverb  is  taken  curiously  and  even  ominously  enough 
as  the  first  sentence  of  the  last  paragraph  of  an  article  on 
Charles  Lever,  which  appeared  in  "  Blackwood"s  Magazine" 
many  years  ago.  The  article  is  a  friendly  one— the  writer 
anonymous,  and  to  me  unknown,  is  in  a  sympathetic  mood. 
He  is  inclined  to  drop  a  literary  tear  over  those  lost  heroes 
of  Lever's  youth,  the  O'Malleys  and  Hintons   and  Burkes 


CHARLES  LE  VER.  157 

and  Lorrequers,  who  "  look  down  upon  us  from  the  distance 
of  an  age  no' longer  ours."  *'  We  have  no  hope  ever  again 
to  meet  them  cantering  in  the  Phoenix  Park  or  swaggering 
down  Sackville  street  or  dancing  at  Dublin  Castle.  They 
are  all  '  gone  proiapsoi  to  the  Stygian  shore. '  Like  Achilles 
and  Ajax,  and  all  the  fortes  ante  Agamemnonemy  they  rest  in 
an  elysium  of  which  the  beatitude  appears  to  us  shadowy 
and  unreal.  But  they  have  quaffed  their  last  bumper  and 
shot  their  last  shot, 

'  They  lie  beside  their  nectar  and  their  bolts  are  hurled/ 

And  although  their  glittering  hosts  yet  hover  about  the  fad- 
ing splendor  of  the  '  good  old  times '  as  the  Scandinavian 
warriors  are  said  by  the  Swedish  poet  to  hover  in  the  light 
of  sunset  over  the  horizon  of  the  Baltic,  yet  we  can  no  more 
recall  them  to  tangible  existence  than  we  can  renew  the  race 
of  the  Anakim." 

The  writer  of  this  rhapsody  over  the  lost  demigods 
of  the  Lever  mythology  who  are  now  not  more  a  part 
of  the  past  than  that  *' Sackville  street"  of  which  he 
speaks,  concludes  his  study,  as  I  have  said,  with  the  Solonic 
proverb,  upon  which  he  reflects  thus — "  Sum  up  the  attri- 
butes of  no  genius  till  it  has  ceased  to  act  or  to  write.  The 
last  work  of  an  author  may  sometimes  be  the  first  which 
gives  a  just  idea  of  his  mind  as  a  whole."  In  a  measure, 
this  remark  is  not  unprophetic.  We  would  not  be  able  to 
fully  appreciate  not  merely  Lever's  work  but  Lever's  nature 
if  his  teeming  brain  and  busy  hand  had  paused  while  yet 
**  Lord  Kilgobbin  "  was  among  the  things  to  be,  or  had  ceased 
in  that  task  midway,  as  the  hand  of  Thackeray  ceased  over 
**  Denis  Duval,"  and  the  pulses  of  Dickens  ceased  to  beat 
before  ever  the  "Mystery  of  Edwin  Drood  "  was  solved. 
*'  Lord  Kilgobbin,"  as  it  stands,  is  one  more  sermon  of  so 
many  upon  the  old,  old  text  of  the  words  of  the  preacher. 


158  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

Lever's  end  was  melancholy;  I  heard  for  the  first  time  the 
other  day  a  hint  that  it  was  tragic.  There  are  few  more 
pathetic  words  in  the  wide  range  of  literature  than  those 
with  which  Lever  brings  to  a  close  the  preface  to  his  last, 
and  in  some  respects,  one  of  his  most  brilliant  novels, 
"  Lord  Kilgobbin."  The  words  in  which  he  speaks  of  his 
dead  wife,  and  earnestly,  most  unfalteringly,  expresses  the 
hope  that  this  may  be  the  last  book  he  will  ever  write. 
There  was  a  tragic  element  in  Lever's  death  I  only  heard 
suggested  once  and  lately  by  one  whose  words  deserves 
consideration.  No  more  of  that.  Sad  enough,  in  any  case, 
are  the  heart-broken  sentences  which  close  the  literary  career 
of  the  man  whose  unfailing  resources  of  humor,  of  wit,  of 
bright,  sparkling  laughter  did  so  much  to  enhance  *'the 
gaiety  of  nations."  It  is  the  old,  old  story — so  old,  and 
eternally  new  in  its  piteousness.  Harlequin  gleams  and 
glitters  on  the  stage  and  flashes  here  and  there,  the  incar- 
nation of  a  mad  merriment,  the  riotous  ruler  of  a  topsy- 
turvy creation ;  but  he  must  weep  behind  its  mask  and  bleed 
beneath  the  spangled  jerkin,  and  love  and  mourn  and  die 
like  the  saddest  and  most  solemn.  To  have  laughed  all  one's 
life,  and  made  the  whole  world  laugh  with  one,  only  inten- 
sifies with  a  more  poignant  pathos  the  loneliness  of  the 
deserted  hearth,  the  desolate  agony  of  the  breaking  heart. 


JOHN    MITCHEL. 

A  Brief  and  Rather  Incorrect  Sketch  of  the  Noblest 
OF  All  the  Irish  Rebels. 

Once,  and  once  only,  I  saw  John  Mitch  el.  I  was  a  small 
boy  in  New  York;  the  occasion  was  some  crowded  meeting 
in,  if  I  remember  rightly,  the  Cooper  Institute;  the  interest 
for  me,  I  know,  centred  in  the  stooped,  gray-haired  man 
who  sat  upon  the  platform,  and  whom  I  knew  to  be  John 
Mitchel.  It  is  something  to  have  looked  even  once  upon 
the  lineaments  of  a  great  man,  something  to  reflect  that 
once  for  a  moment  two  lives  touched,  and  that  the  eyes  of 
the  child  beheld  the  face  of  the  hero,  the  exile,  the  man  of 
genius  who  had  loved  Ireland  so  well  and  whom  Ireland 
will  love  and  honor  forever.  Of  all  the  men  of  that  wild 
movement  of  1848  Mitchel  saw  his  way  most  clearly;  he 
was  the  peer  of  all  of  them  in  energy,  in  determination  and 
in  patriotism;  he  was  superior  to  all  of  them,  save  only 
Meagher,  in  his  masterly  command  of  language,  in  the 
passion  and  eloquence  and  beauty  which  his  genius  could 
kindle  from  the  mechanism  of  human  speech.  Ireland  had 
never  produced  a  man  who  possessed  a  greater  mastery  of 
prose,  who  could  better  manipulate  the  harmonies  of  well- 
ordered  words,  and  wing  home  his  thoughts  and  teachings 
to  the  hearts  of  his  readers  with  a  more  magnificent  or  more 
convincing  style.  The  eloquence  of  Meagher  was  the 
eloquence  of  the  platform;  his  speeches  were  made  to  be 
delivered,  and  those  who  read  them  seem  to  hear  resound- 
ing in  their  ears  as  they  read  the  eloquence  of  the  orator. 


160  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN. 

Mitchel's  eloquence  is  the  eloquence  of  the  consummate 
man  of  letters,  and  yet  we  are  told  on  the  authority  of  Sir 
Charles  Gavan  Duffy  that  "  In  the  beginning  he  wrote 
clumsily  and  even  feebly."  These  seem  to  a  generation 
steeped  in  the  "  Jail  Journal  "  amazing  adjectives  to  employ 
towards  Mitchel.  We  may  assume  that  they  were  in  some 
measure  deserved,  for  although  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy 
has  no  great  affection  for  Mitchel  he  endeavors  to  be  an 
impartial  historian.  But  if  they  could  have  ever  been  ap- 
plied and  deservedly  to  one  of  the  most  remarkable  writers 
of  his  age,  what  encouragement  they  offer  to  honest  en- 
deavor struggling  against  disappointment.  No  man  need 
despair  at  being  criticized  as  clumsy  or  feeble  in  his  prose 
style  if  he  remembers  that  Mitchel  at  thirty  was  accused 
of  the  same  defects. 

There  are  few  passages  in  literature  that  are,  in  their  way, 
more  beautiful  than  '^Mitchel's  Journal."  "All  my  life 
long,"  says  Mitchel,  **  I  have  delighted  in  rivers,  rivulets, 
rills,  fierce  torrents  tearing  their  rocky  beds,  gliding,  dimpled 
brooks  kissing  a  daisied  marge.  The  tinkle  or  murmur  or 
deep  resounding  roll,  or  raving  roar  of  running  water  is,  of 
all  sounds  my  ears  even  hear  now,  the  most  homely.  Noth- 
ing else  in  this  land" — he  is  speaking  of  the  land  of  his 
exile — "looks  or  sounds  like  home.  The  birds  have  a 
foreign  tongue,  the  very  trees  whispering  to  the  wind 
whisper  in  accents  unknown  to  me.  *****  They 
can  never,  never,  never,  let  breeze  pipe  or  zephyr  breathe 
as  it  will,  never  can  they  whisper,  quiver,  sigh  or  sing  as 
do  the  beeches  and  sycamores  of  old  Rostrevor."  A  little 
farther  on  he  reflects  with  wonderful  fancy  upon  this  ancient 
river  of  the  new  world — his  Tasmanian  Shannon  which  re- 
calls in  its  name  the  dearer  river  of  his  home.  "  In  its 
crystalline  gush  my  heart  and  brain  are  bathed,  and  I  hear 
in  its  plaintive  chime,  all  the  blended  voices  of  history,  of 


JOHN  MITCHEL.  161 

prophecy,  and  poesy  from  the  beginning.  Not  cooler  or 
fresher  was  the  Thracian  Hebrus;  not  purer  was  Aban  and 
Pharpar;  not  more  ancient  and  venerable  is  Father  Nilus. 
Before  the  quiet  flow  of  the  Egyptian  river  was  yet  disturbed 
by  the  jabber  of  the  priests  of  Meroe;  before  the  dynasty 
was  yet  bred  that  quaffed  the  sacred  wave  of  Choaspes — - 
the  drink  of  none  but  kings;  ere  its  lordly  namesake  river 
in  Erin  of  Streams  reflected  yet  upon  its  bosom  a  pillar 
tower,  or  heard  the  chimes  from  its  Seven  Churches,  this 
river  was  rushing  through  its  lonely  glen  to  the  Southern 
Sea — was  singing  its  mystic  song  to  these  primeval  woods. 
-^  ^  *  I  delight  in  poets  who  delight  in  rivers,  and  for 
this  I  do  love  that  sweet  singer  through  whose  inner  ear 
and  brain  the  gush  of  his  native  Aufidius  for  ever  streamed 
and  flashed.  How  some  perennial  brooks  of  crystal  glim- 
mered forever  through  all  his  day  dreams;  how  he  yearned 
to  marry  his  own  immortality  with  the  eternally  murmuring 
hymn  of  that  bright  Elandusian  fount.  Wisely,  too,  and 
learnedly,  did  Clarence  Mangan  discourse  with  the  rivers, 
attune  his  notes  to  their  wonderful  music." 

This  is  really  exquisite,  perfectly  finished,  highly  wrought 
prose,  as  consummately  skillful  as  anything  that  the  English 
language  has  produced.  It  might  well  rank  with  Meagher's 
farewell  utterance  in  Clonmel  Court-house,  and  with  Shiel's 
savagely  satiric  apostrophe  to  the  memory  of  the  anti- 
Catholic  Duke  of  York,  as  one  of  the  three  stars  in  the 
Orion's  belt  of  Irish  prose  literature.  Yet  Mitchel  is  prac- 
tically unknown  in  England,  except  in  a  vague  way  as  a 
ferocious  rebel  who  was  exiled  and  who  broke  prison,  and 
who  tried  in  later  years  to  introduce  his  felonship  into  the 
sanctuary  of  St.  Stephen's.  From  the  presses  of  publishers 
volumes  of  extracts  of  English  prose,  beauties  of  the  Eng- 
lish language,  half  hours  with  best  authors,  and  all  such 
gear,  pour  incessantly,  all  of  them  enriched  in  some  of  their 
6 


162  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

brightest  pages  by  the  genius  of  Irish  intellect.  Burke  and 
Goldsmith,  Sheridan  and  Swift  yield  their  glories  to  the 
gleaner;  but  of  the  man  who  was  the  peer  of  the  proudest  of 
these  in  the  mastery  and  magic  of  his  language,  you  will 
not  find  a  passage,  not  a  paragraph,  not  a  sentence,  no,  not 
a  jot  or  tittle  of  all  the  magnificent  eloquence  which  makes 
the  "  Jail  Journal"  one  of  the  abiding  glories  of  Irish  and 
of  English  literature.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  with  the  better 
understanding  now  new  born  and  swiftly  thriving  between 
the  two  countries,  an  understanding  which,  paradoxical 
though  it  may  appear,  is  in  no  small  measure  due  to 
Mitchel  ! — there  may  come  a  truer  appreciation  in  England 
of  our  Irish  literature  and  of  the  men  of  genius  who  made 
it  what  it  is,  and  among  the  best  of  whom  is  this  same  John 
Mitchel. 

When  O'Connell's  vast  agitation  fell  to  pieces  after  the 
suppression  of  the  meeting  of  Clontarf,  and  the  subsequent 
imprisonment  of  O'Connell  showed  that  the  Liberator  did 
not  mean  ever  to  appeal  to  the  physical  force  he  had  talked 
about,  Mitchel  and  O'Brien  became  the  leaders  of  different 
sections  of  the  Young*  Ireland  party,  as  the  men  of  the 
Nation  were  now  called.  Thomas  Davis,  the  sweet  chief 
singer  of  the  movement,  died  suddenly  before  the  move- 
ment which  he  had  done  so  much  for  had  taken  direct  revo- 
lutionary shape.  Mitchel  came  on  the  Nation  in  his  place, 
and  advocated  revolution  and  republicanism.  He  followed 
the  traditions  of  Emmet  and  the  men  of  '98;  he  was  in  favor 
of  independence.  His  doctrines  attracted  the  more  ardent 
of  the  Young  Irelanders,  and  what  was  known  as  a  war 
party  was  formed.  There  were  now  three  sections  of  Irish 
agitation.  There  were  the  Repealers,  who  were  opposed 
to  all  physical  force;  there  were  the  moderate  Young  Ire- 
landers,  only  recognizing  physical  force  when  all  else  had 
failed;  and  there  were  now  this  new  party  who  saw  in  revo- 


JOHN  MITCHEL.  163 

lution  the  only  remedy  for  Ireland.  Small  wonder  if  men 
like  Mitchel  believed  in  the  possibility  of  the  thing.  There 
had  been  encouragement  abroad.  Vast  meetings,  organized 
and  directed  by  men  Uke  Seward  and  Horace  Greeley,  had 
threatened  England  with  *'  the  assured  loss  of  Canada  by 
American  arms,"  if  she  suppressed  the  repeal  agitation  by 
force,  and  at  one  time  Horace  Greeley  was  one  of  a  direc- 
tory in  New  York  for  sending  officers  and  arms  to  Ireland. 
In  France  the  Republican  party  had  been  loud  in  their  ex- 
pressions of  sympathy  for  the  Irish,  and  Ledru  Rollin  had 
declared  that  France  was  ready  to  lend  her  strength  to  the 
support  of  an  oppressed  nation.  No  wonder  the  leaders  of 
the  National  party  were  encouraged  in  the  belief  that  their 
cause  was  pleasing  to  the  fates;  no  wonder  if  Mitchel,  weary 
of  delay,  believed  that  in  action,  distinct,  desperate  action, 
lay  the  only  hope  for  the  movement  which  had  drifted  from 
repeal  into  Young  Irelandism,  and  from  Young  Irelandism 
into  Mitcheldom,  with  all  its  fierce,  vehement,  fiery  energy. 
Mitchel's  scheme  has  been  bitterly  blamed.  *' At  least," 
says  one  who- shared  in  the  agitations  of  the  time,  "  it  may 
be  called  the  only  scheme  which  had  the  slightest  chance 
of  success;  we  do  not  say  of  success  in  establishing  the  in- 
dependence of  Ireland,  which  Mitchel  sought  for,  but  in 
meeting  a  genuine  rebellion  afoot.  Mitchel  was  the  one 
formidable  man  among  the  rebels  of  '48.  He  was  the  one 
man  who  distinctly  knew  what  he  wanted,  and  was  prepared 
to  run  any  risk  to  get  it.  He  was  cast  in  the  very  mould 
of  the  genuine  revolutionist,  and  under  different  circum- 
stances might  have  played  a  formidable  part.  He  came 
from  the  northern  part  of  the  Island,  and  was  a  Protestant 
Dissenter.  It  is  a  fact  worthy  of  note  that  all  the  really 
formidable  rebels  Ireland  has  produced  in  modern  times, 
from  Wolfe  Tone  to  Mitchel,  have  been  Protestants. 
Mitchel  was  a  man  of  great  literary  talent;  indeed,  a  man 


164  HOURS  WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

of  something  like  genius.  He  wrote  a  clear,  bold,  incisive 
prose,  keen  in  its  scorn  and  satire,  going  directly  to  the 
heart  of  its  purpose.  As  mere  prose  some  of  it  is  worth 
reading  even  to-day  for  its  cutting  force  and  pitiless  irony. 
Mitchel  issued  in  his  paper  week  after  week  a  challenge  to 
the  government  to  prosecute  him.  He  poured  out  the  most 
fiery  sedition,  and  used  every  incentive  that  words  could 
supply  to  rouse  a  hot-headed  people  to  arms  or  some  im- 
patient government  to  some  act  of  severe  repression. 
Mitchel  was  quite  ready  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  himself  if  it 
were  necessary.  It  is  possible  enough  that  he  had  per- 
suaded himself  into  the  belief  that  a  rising  in  Ireland  against 
the  government  might  be  successful." 

Mitchel  boldly  defied  the  Castle,  and  practically  chal- 
lenged it  to  arrest  him.  He  thought  he  had  the  country 
with  him,  and  so  he  had  in  one  sense,  but  when  he 
attempted  revolution  without  any 'of  the  means  of  revolu- 
tion at  his  command  he  made  a  political  blunder.  He  dared 
the  Castle  to  arrest  him  and  the  Castle  answered  the  dare. 

Mitchel  was  arrested,  tried  and  transported  to  Bermuda. 
That  was  the  turning-point  of  the  revolution.  The  Mitch- 
elites  wished  to  rise  in  rescue.  They  urged,  and  rightly 
urged,  that  if  revolution  was  meant  at  all,  then  was  the 
time.  But  the  less  extreme  men  held  back.  An  autumnal 
rising  had  been  decided  upon,  and  they  were  unwilling  to 
anticipate  the  struggle.  They  carried  their  point.  Mitchel 
was  sentenced  to  seventeen  *  years'  transportation.  When 
the  verdict  was  delivered  he  declared  that,  like  the  Roman, 
Scaevola,  he  could  promise  hundreds  who  would  follow  his 
example,  and  as  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  John  Martin, 
Meagher,  and  others  of  his  associates  who  were  thronging 

*  Mr.  McCarthy  is  in  error.  Mitchel  was  sentenced  to  a  term  of  four- 
teen years,  exile  beyond  the  seas. 


JOHN  MITCHEL.  ■  165 

the  galleries  of  the  court.  A  wild  cry  came  up  from  all 
his  friends,  '*  Promise  for  me,  Mitchel  ! — promise  for  me  !  " 
There  is  not  a  more  impressive,  a  more  dramatically  tragic 
scene  in  the  whole  of  history.  With  that  cry  of  a  nation's 
promise  ringing  in  his  ears,  he  was  hurried  from  the  court, 
heavily  ironed  and  encircled  by  a  little  army  of  dragoons, 
to  the  war-sloop,  "Shearwater,"  that  had  been  waiting  for 
the  verdict  and  the  man.  As  the  war-sloop  steamed  out 
of  Dublin  harbor,  the  hopes  of  the  Young  Irelanders  went 
with  her,  vain  and  evanescent,  from  that  hour  forth,  as  the 
smoke  that  floated  in  the  steamer's  wake.  Mitchel  had 
himself  discountenanced,  to  his  undying  honor,  any  attempt 
at  rescue.*  There  is  a  pathetic  little  story  which  records  his 
looking  out  of  the  prison  van  that  drove  from  the  court, 
and  seeing  a  great  crov/d  and  asking  where  they  were  going, 
and  being  told  that  they  were  going  to  a  flower  show.  There 
were  plenty  of  men  in  the  movement  who  would  have 
gladly  risked  everything  to  try  and  rescue  Mitchel.  But 
nothing  could  have  been  done  without  unanimity,  and  the 
too  great  caution  of  the  leaders  prevented  the  effort  at  the 
only  moment  when  it  could  have  had  the  faintest  hope  of 
success.     From  that  hour  the  movement  was  doomed. 

Mitchel  escaped  from  prison  under  circumstances  which 
raised  a  controversy  into  which  I  shall  not  enter.  He 
settled  down  in  America  as  a  journalist.  He  lived  for  a 
while  in  Paris,  and  a  fellow-countryman,  who  is  at  once  a 
bright  and  a  witty  writer,  John  Augustus  O'Shea,  has  left 
in  one  of  his  books  a  most  interesting  account  of  his  ac- 
quaintance with  Mitchel  during  those  Parisian  days.  Dur- 
ing his  American  life,  when  the  civil  war,  the  great  Ameri- 
can Iliad,  broke  out,  Mitchel  found  himself  on  the  opposite 

*  Another  error.  John  Mitchel  utterly,  and,  as  he  himself  has  said, 
"  perhaps  too  bitterly,"  declined  to  discountenance  a  rescue.  He  wished 
the  attempt  to  be  made. 


166  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

side  in  politics  from  his  comrade,  Meagher.  Meagher 
wore  the  blue  uniform  of  a  Federal  officer;  Mitchel's  two 
sons  met  their  death  gallantly  while  wearing  the  grey  cloth 
of  the  Confederate  service.  Years  and  years  later  Mitchel 
came  back  to  the  land  of  his  birth.  He  was  elected  to 
Parliament  for  Tipperary,  his  election  was  disqualified  after 
a  fierce,  angry  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons;  he  was  re- 
elected only  to  die  nine  days  later;  he  lies  buried  in  his 
birthplace,  Newry,*  not  too  far  from  those  beeches  and 
sycamores  of  old  Rostrevor. 

Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy,  who  has  given  pen  portraits  of 
all  his  colleagues,  thus  depicts  Mitchel:  "He  was  rather 
above  the  middle  size,  well-made,  and  with  a  face  which 
was  thoughtful  and  comely,  though  pensive  blue  eyes  and 
masses  of  soft,  brown  hair,  a  stray  ringlet  of  which  he  had 
the  habit  of  twining  round  his  finger  while  he  spoke,  gave 
it  perhaps  too  feminine  a  cast."  Another  friend  of 
Mitchel's  has  spoken  to  me  of  his  wavy  hair  drawn  across 
his  forehead;  of  his  eyes,  very  bright,  and  often  half  closed 
in  an  almost  languishing  fashion,  and  of  his  soft,  semi- 
caressing,  attractive  manner.  He  was  at  all  times  of  a 
curious,  impetuous  humor. 

Shortly  before  he  brought  out  his  own  newspaper  he  was 
standing  in  the  printing-room  of  a  well-known  newspaper  in 
the  South  of  Ireland,  talking  to  its  editor,  an  able  and  sin- 
cere Irishman  who  played  a  conspicuous  part  in  Parliament, 
and  who  is  now  dead.  The  editor  was  objecting  to  the  name 
of  Mitchel's  paper,  which  he  thought  might  be  likely  to 
rouse  dissension  or  disapproval.  "  My  dear  fellow," 
Mitchel  answered  swiftly,  "  I  would  call  my  paper  '  The 
Thug '  if  I  thought  that  by  so  doing  I  could  arouse  more 
general  attention  to  Irish  wrongs."     On  another  occasion 

*A  third   error.     John   Mitchel  was  born   in   the  county  of  Derry, 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  city  of  that  name. 


JOHN  MITCH  EL-  167 

he  met  in  society  at  some  public  dinner  or  such  matter  a 
well-known  English  writer  and  politician,  David  Urquhart. 
Mr.  Urquhart  was  a  gifted,  opinionated,  vehement  man  who 
had  lived  much  in  the  East,  and  was  an  impassioned  Russo- 
phobist.  He,  of  course,  got  into  an  argument  with  Mitchel, 
and  began  pointing  out  to  him  that  Mitchel's  schemes  could 
not  and  ought  not  to  come  to  anything  because  of  the  com- 
plications with  Russia  which  might  ensue.  Mitchel  listened 
to  him  for  a  while  with  decent  patience,  but  at  last  he  could 
stand  it  no  longer,  and  when  Urquhart  came  to  a  pause 
in  one  of  his  lengthy  tirades,  Mitchel  said,  sharply  and  de- 
cisively— '*  I  don't  care  in  the  least  about  Russia,  and  I 
don't  care  in  the  least  about  you."  This  ended  the  argu- 
ment then.     Let  it  serve  to  end  my  paper  now. 


SOME   THOUGHTS   ON    THE  EIGHTH  OF  APRIL. 

Neither  the  history  of  the  reign  nor  the  history  of  the 
century  afford  any  parallel  to  the  scenes  which  I  witnessed 
in  the  House  of  Commons  last  Thursday.  The  records  of 
contemporary  events  afford  many  examples  of  great  and 
stirring  moments  in  the  chronicle  of  the  Commons'  Cham- 
ber at  Westminster.  The  introduction  of  great  measures 
of  social,  political  reform,  the  debates  which  have  been  big 
with  the  fates  of  Ministers  and  which  have  resulted  in  the 
overthrow  of  administrations  that  seemed  yesterday  to  be 
deeply  rooted  in  popular  favor,  the  explanations  consequent 
upon  momentous  resignations,  all  these  varied  means  of 
arousing  intense  political  excitement,  have  each  in  their 
turn  thronged  the  panelled  room  with  members  and  lined 
the  walls  with  the  breathless  spectators  of  epoch-making 
episodes.  But  the  rise  of  no  measure  and  the  fall  of  no 
Minister  have  ever  stirred  St.  Stephens's  to  such  fever  fire 
of  excitement  as  that  which  animated  it  all  through  the 
long  hours  of  last  Thursday's  life.  Neither  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  first  Reform  bill  with  all  the  fervid  emotions  of 
the  consequent  debates-,  nor  the  excitements  of  such  Par- 
liamentary catastrophes  as  the  dismissal  of  Lord  Palmerston 
in  1852  and  the  defeats  of  Mr.  Gladstone  in  1866  and  1885, 
can  be  fairly  said  to  offer  even  a  distant  parallel  to  the 
passions,  the  enthusiasm,  the  fear  and  hope  and  fury  and 
exultation  which  swept  the  surface  and  stirred  the  depths 
of  the  greatest  legislative  assemblage  of  modern  times. 

It  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  take  part  in  some  of  the 
most  thrilling  incidents  that  have  marked  the  stormy  course 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  EIGHTH  OF  APRIL.  169 

of  Parliamentary  history  for  the  last  six  years.  From  the 
galleries  of  the  House  of  Commons  I  have  watched  the  stars 
while  the  battle  for  Irish  rights  has  raged  below  me;  from 
those  high  places  I  have  seen  night  fade  into  dawn  and 
dawn  become  noon,  and  the  day's  strength  wane  into  even- 
ing, and  through  night  to  dawn  again,  following  the  fortunes 
of  the  handful  of  Irish  members  who  were  making  so  brave 
a  front  against  the  hostile  House  that  raved  against  them 
and  roared  around  them,  and  strove  again  and  again  to  con- 
quer, to  crush,  to  silence  them.  I  have  seen  the  represent- 
atives of  the  Irish  nation  again  and  again  expelled  from  the 
Chamber  for  their  persistence  in  defending  the  rights  and 
pressing  the  claims  of  their  countrymen.  I  have  shared  in  the 
tumultuous  emotions  of  the  two  fateful  hours  in  which  suc- 
cessive Ministries  fell  on  the  cause  of  coercion  before  the 
votes  of  an  united  Irish  party.  All  these  scenes  and  in- 
cidents are  graven  upon  my  memory,  but  no  one  of  them, 
not  the  fiercest  and  stormiest^  could  for  a  moment  compare 
with  the  keen,  almost  agonizing  excitement  and  the  vast 
historical  dignity  of  the  scene  which  the  House  of  Commons 
presented  at  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  Thursday  last, 
the  ever  memorable  8th  of  April. 

One  great  fact  rises  distinctly  starlike,  out  of  all  the  con- 
fusion and  passion  and  heart-burning  and  heart-upliftmg 
of  that  memorable  day,  the  fact  that  a  great  English  Minis- 
ter, the  foremost  and  most  famous  statesman  of  his  age, 
has  recognized,  speaking  to  an  attentive  Senate,  to  an  atten- 
tive nation,  to  an  attentive  world,  the  right  of  the  Irish 
people  to  self-governmxent.  That  great  historic  fact  is  at 
once  the  triumph  and  the  justification  of  an  oppressed  but 
unconquered  nationality.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of 
the  particular  measure  which  Mr.  Gladstone  has  introduced, 
whatever  maybe  its  ultimate  fate  in  the  House  of  Commons 
or  in  the  House  of  Peers,  whatever  modifications,  improve- 


170  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

ments,  extensions  it  may  be  found  capable  of  sustaining  are 
all  but  details,  vastly  important  in  themselves,  but  for  the 
moment  unimportant  in  contrast  with  the  stupendous,  the 
monumental  importance  of  the  recognition  by  the  fore- 
most of  English  statesmen  of  that  right  of  Ireland,  to  make 
her  own  laws  for  her  own  people,  which  for  so  many  cen- 
turies has  been  so  persistently,  so  bloodily,  denied  to  her. 
There  are  certain  hours  in  the  lives  of  great  men  which  are 
in  themselves  epochs,  hours  when  a  single  speech  is  more 
momentous,  more  far-reaching,  than  half  a  dozen  revolu- 
tions. Such  was  the  hour  which  but  a  week  ago  reversed 
the  verdict  of  seven  centuries;  such  was  the  speech  in 
which  Mr,  Gladstone  apologized  for  the  folly  of  eighty-six 
years  of  false  and  fatal  union,  and  frankly  recognized,  late 
in  the  day,  indeed,  but  not  too  late,  that  Ireland  contained 
a  people  "  rightly  struggling  to  be  free." 

The  great  Prime  Minister  had  the  advantage  of  address- 
ing the  greatest  speech  of  his  life  to  the  largest  audience 
that  was  ever  gathered  together  within  the  precincts  of  the 
popular  assembly.  But  crowded  though  the  chamber  was, 
and  crowded,  too,  with  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable 
throng  of  men  that  has  ever  been  gathered  together  within 
the  walls  of  Westminster,  it  was  for  me  more  closely 
crowded  and  with  a  yet  more  eminent  congregation.  My 
mind's  eye,  gifted  for  the  moment  by  my  fancy  with  the 
powers  of  second  sight,  peopled  it  with  further  presences. 
An  observer  in  one  of  the  choking  spaces  set  apart  for 
strangers,  looking  down  upon  those  packed  benches,  upon 
that  floor  where,  for  the  first  time  within  the  memory  of  man, 
seats  had  been  placed  for  members  upon  the  blocked  gang- 
ways,upon  the  thickly-clustering  groups  behind  the  Speaker's 
chair  and  below  the  bar,  upon  the  overflowing  passages,  and 
groaning  galleries,  might  well  have  imagined  that  so  full  a 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  EIGHTH  OF  APRIL.         171 

House  could  scarcely  be  made  fuller  even  by  the  addition 
of  a  solitary  individual. 

In  sober  fact,  it  would  have  been  hard  indeed  to  find 
room  for  another  human  being  in  the  dense  assemblage,  or 
for  the  over-taxed  and  enervating  atmosphere  to  afford  him 
a  life-sustaining  supply  of  oxygen,  if  room  had  been  found 
for  the  sole  of  his  foot.  It  was  not,  however,  with  living, 
breathing  entities,  but  with  the  bodyless  creation  of  fancy, 
that  my  mind  increased  the  assemblage  within  that  swarm- 
ing Senate  House.  As  my  gaze  wandered  over  that  vast  sea 
of  human  faces  they  seemed  to  change  to  faces  scarcely  less 
famihar,  though  they  have  long  been  strange  to  sunlight 
and  starlight,  and  in  a  moment  I  had  summoned  a  new  and 
more  Imperial  Parliament,  a  Parliament  not  of  the  quick 
but  of  the  dead.  My  conception  making  this  new  "  call  of 
the  House"  evoked  from  the  long  avenues  of  the  past  a 
world  of  stately  shadows.  The  Irish  benches  crowded  with 
my  enthusiastic  colleagues  rallying  in  exultation  around  the 
chosen  leader  of  their  country  and  their  cause  faded — so  it 
seemed  to  my  reverie — from  my  sight,  and  in  their  room  a 
legion  of  mighty  and  mournful  phantoms  presented  them- 
selves to  me.  Phantoms  of  many  epochs  and  of  many  ages 
rose  in  a  great  cloud  together,  and  my  vision  following  the 
lines  of  their  dim  ranks  caught  here  and  there  with  the 
feverish  rapidity  of  a  dream,  well-known  and  venerated 
countenances  dear  beyond  all  phrase  to  Irish  memories. 

The  white-haired,  blind,  old  man,  whose  stalwart  frame 
was  bowed  by  sorrow,  and  whose  sightless  gaze  had  in  it 
such  a  wistful  pathos,  was  not  he  the  exiled  Earl  whose 
grave  in  Roman  earth  is  now  the  shrine  of  so  many  pil- 
grimages ?  Near  him,  his  soldier's  face  writhed  with  pain 
or  poison,  came  the  great  kinsman  of  his  House,  Owen  Roe. 
Sarsfield,  with  the  blood  of  Landen  on  his  breast  and  hand; 
Talbot  of  Tyrconnell's  weary,  haughty  face;  Roger  Moore, 


172  HOURS  WITH  GREA  T  IRISHMEN. 

handsome,  chivalrous,  devoted;  "William  Molyneux,  with  the 
"  Case  of  Ireland  "  in  his  grasp;  the  small,  fervid  figure  of 
the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  with  "  fierce  indignation"  blazing 
in  his  wild,  dark  eyes;  Lucas,  with  his  volume  clasped  in  his 
embrace;  the  gallant  bearing  of  Charlemont;  Grattan,  in 
the  uniform  of  the  volunteers;  Flood,  restless  and  repent- 
ant; Curran,  swaying  with  stormy  eloquence — these  and 
many  others  floated  before  me  in  proud  succession. 

With  them  were  yet  livelier  and  loftier  presences,  Edward 
Fitzgerald,  his  comely  body  gashed  with  more  scars  than 
Caesar's,  and  by  baser  hands;  Tone,  with  that  grim  wound 
in  his  throat;  Bagenal  Har^^ey  and  Father  John;  the 
Brothers  Sheares  in  death  as  in  life  undivided;  and  Emmet, 
with  the  livid  circle  round  his  young  neck.  On  they  came, 
the  long  line  of  martyrs  who  had  died  to  defeat  the  fatal 
principles  which  the  Act  of  Union  formulated,  and  who 
seemed  now  to  rise  from  their  graves  at  the  sound  of  the 
knell  of  that  principle. 

Nor  were  the  phantoms  ot  my  fancy  confined  alone  to 
our  side  of  the  House,  nor  to  the  Irish  benches.  Across 
the  floor,  even  on  the  seat  where  the  Ministers  of  the  hour 
were  grouped  together,  I  seemed  to  discern  the  benign 
shadows  of  the  illustrious  dead.  Chesterfield  and  Fitz- 
william  stood  there  side  by  side.  The  genius  of  Charles 
James  Fox  seemed  to  hover  like  an  inspiring  influence 
about  the  bowed  form  of  the  Prime  Minister,  and  the  like- 
ness of  Burke  leaned  over  to  prompt  his  brilliant  biogra- 
pher and  foHower  with  his  silver  voice,  and  to  encourage 
him  with  his  golden  counsel.  Methought,  too,  that  a  few 
more  ominous  and  forbidding  shapes  were  huddled  together 
in  angry  companionship  upon  the  Opposition  side  of  the 
House,  lurking  furtively  in  the  dark  spaces  behind  the 
Speaker's  chair.  Cornwallis  and  Castlereagh,  and  Pitt, 
Stafford,  and  Essex,  and  Perrot,  and  Bagnal,  Cromwell  and 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  EIGHTH  OF  APRIL.         173 

William  of  Nassau,  with  such  baser  spectres  as  Sir,  and 
Swan,  and  Higgins,  emerged  momentarily  from  the  dark- 
ness and  vanished  again  with  the  fitful  confusion  of  a  dream. 
All  this  ghostly  army,  multiplying  in  bewildering  rapidity, 
swayed  and  floated  silently  forward,  their  pale  faces  shining 
with  wild  emotions  of  hope  and  exultation  and  hate.  Then 
a  great  cry  rose  up,  a  fierce,  tumultuous  yell  of  triumph 
and  salutation;  the  grey  ghosts  seemed  to  shudder  at  the 
sound,  and  swiftly  vanished  as  the  clamor  rose  to  their 
place  of  shades.  St.  Stephens  was  itself  again,  and  the 
assembled,  living,  breathing  multitude  were — the  majority 
of  them — cheering  themselves  hoarse  in  welcome  of  Mr. 
Gladstone,  who  had  just  risen  to  his  feet.  As  I  listened  to 
the  orator,  and  heard  the  impassioned  words  in  which  an 
English  Minister,  for  the  first  time  in  the  face  of  all  the 
world,  recognized  the  rights  of  the  Irish  people,  I  felt  that 
indeed  the  mighty  dead  might  well  be  content  with  that 
day's  business,  and  might,  indeed,  if  it  were  permitted  to 
them,  quit  their  resting-places  to  share  in  the  triumph  of  a 
day  which  marks  an  epoch  in  Irish  history — an  epoch  which 
seem.s  as  if  it  were  destined  to  end  the  old  evil  order  of  re- 
pression and  revolution  and  open  the  new  order  of  freedom 
and  of  hope. 


THE    THIRTY    TYRANTS. 

Exactly  a  year  ago,  in  this  same  summer  month  of  June, 
and,  by  one  of  those  fantastic  fatalities  which  sometimes 
attend  upon  great  events,  upon  the  self-same  day  of  the 
week,  I  found  myself  one  of  an  Irish  party  at  St.  Stephens's 
shouting  themselves  hoarse  in  triumph  over  the  fall  of  Mr. 
Gladstone's  administration.  Last  night,  or  rather  this 
morning — for  it  is  not  many  hours  ago  since  I  left  West- 
minster in  the  slowly  whitening  dawn — I  was  again  a  unit 
in  a  greater  Irish  party  which  lent  this  time  all  the  thunders 
of  its  homage  to  the  same  statesman,  once  more  facing  de- 
feat. History  will  perceive  no  inconsistency  in  the  action 
of  the  Irish  representatives.  A  year  ago  they  triumphed 
over  the  downfall  of  Mr.  Gladstone.  To-day  they  are  his 
liegemen  in  defeat,  and  will  yet  be  his  allies  in  victory. 
They  exulted  over  a  defeated  Premier  when  that  Premier 
was,  and  for  the  last  time,  identified  with  the  old  hateful 
policy  of  coercion,  the  policy  which  persisted  in  regarding 
the  delegates  of  the  Irish  people  not  as  the  chosen  mouth- 
pieces of  their  country's  wrongs,  but  as  factionists  to  be 
silenced  at  all  hazards,  by  fair  means  if  possible,  but  in  any 
case  and  any  way  to  be  silenced.  Within  the  year  Mr. 
Gladstone  has  shown  himself  to  be  blest  with  that  greatest 
of  all  statesmanlike  capacities,  the  capacity  to  learn.  He 
has  frankly  and  freely  admitted  that  he  misinterpreted  the 
desires  and  underrated  the  unanimity  of  the  Irish  people, 
and  his  genius  has  lifted  him  to  the  crest  of  that  great  wave 
of  Nationalism  which  last  year  swept  the  Irish  constituencies 
from  shore  to  shore,  and  sent  eighty-four  men  across  the 


THE  THIRTY  TYRANTS,  1*^5 

Irish  sea  to  ask  Home  Rule  for  Ireland.  The  verdict  of 
history  will  applaud  the  "inconsistency"  of  Ireland  and 
the  "  inconsistency"  of  Mr.  Gladstone. 

What  will  the  verdict  of  history  be  upon  the  men  who  last 
night  broke  away,  not  merely  from  the  ties  of  party,  but 
from  the  very  principles  of  the  great  Liberal  Party  to  which 
they  nominally  belonged,  and  who  did  all  that  lay  in  their 
power  to  humiliate   their  great    statesman,  and  to  fasten 
tighter  still  upon  Ireland  the  loosening  bondage  of  ascend- 
ancy ?     Thirty  votes!  the  number  of  the  majority  is  ominous 
and  appropriate.     For  thirty  pieces  of  silver  Judas  sold  his 
Master.     For  thirty  votes  the  new  political  Judas  betrays 
his  leader  and  his  cause.     Or  let  us  take  another  example. 
Let  us  think  of  those  thrice  ten  who  tortured  Athens,  and 
let  us  hail  those  thrice  ten  who  to-day  would  torture  Ireland 
with  the  well-earned  title  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants.     The  Tory 
Party  acted  in  accordance  with  their  eldest  traditions  and 
their  fondest  faith  when  they  trooped  into  the  "  No  "  lobby 
on  last  night.     Coercion  is  the  God  of  their  idolatry,  and 
if  they  once  denied  him,  not  merely  under  cover  of  secret 
conclave  and  veiled  intrigue,  but  in  the  open  light  of  day, 
they  have  bitterly  repented    of   their    brief  apostacy  and 
have  returned  with  joyful  hearts  to  the  familiar  altars.     So 
they  at  last  acted  in  complete  obedience  to  their  convictions. 
Can  the   same   be  said    of  the    seceding  Liberals,   of  the 
hangers-on  of  Lord  Hartington,  the  adherents  of  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain, and  the  "  stalwarts  "  of  Mr.  Caine  ?     The  men  who 
last  night  destroyed  the  Home  Rule  Bill  did  so  in  direct  de- 
fiance of  their  own  principles,  in  direct  denial  in  many  cases 
of  their  own  wishes.     Many  of  them  were  pledged,  as  far 
as  they  could  be  pledged,  to  the  principle  of  Home  Rule, 
and  yet  they  did  their  best  to  make  Home  Rule  impossible. 
Happily,  they  will  not,  they  cannot  succeed.     They  can  de- 
lay the  progress  of  civilization  and  of  freedom  as  a  nail  may 


176  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN.  j 

delay  the  movements  of  some  mighty  piece  of  machinery,' 
but  the  paltry  obstacle  is  soon  set  aside,  the  machine  workfi 
freely,  civilization  proceeds  upon  its  course,  and  mankind 
at  large  forgets  that  such  a  thing  as  a  nail  or  a  "  stalwart " 
ever  existed. 

It  was  a  curious  study  in  living  history  to  be  in  the  House 
of  Commons  last  night  and  survey  some  of  the  men,  of 
whom  Mr.  Gladstone  might  say,  in  the  tragic  words  of 
Anthony,  that  they  have 

"  Packed  cards  with  Csesar  and  false-played  my  glory 
Unto  an  enemy's  triumph." 

It  was  a  curious  and  instructive  sight  to  see  the  Whigs 
and  ''stalwarts"  sitting  in  sullen  silence  while  their  chief, 
the  leader  who  had  led  them  again  and  again  to  victory, 
was  being  insulted  by  the  jeers,  the  laughter  and  the  inter- 
ruptions of  the  Tory  party.  They  were  silent.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  they  were  ashamed  of  the  allies  they  had  given 
themselves  over  to,  allies  who  could  afford  to  taunt  a  states- 
man doomed  to  defeat  by  his  own  followers.  It  was  a  curious 
sight  to  see  Lord  Hartington  and  Mr.  Chamberlain,  osten- 
tatious in  the  display  of  their  "Unholy  Alliance,"  lean 
across  the  intervening  gangway  and  laugh  and  whisper  to- 
gether while  the  Prime  Minister  was  speaking.  Curious, 
because  it  carried  the  mind  back  to  days  not  very  far  distant, 
days  when  Mr.  Gladstone  had  for  the  time  laid  down  his 
leadership,  and  when  Lord  Hartington  was  the  head  or 
figure-head  of  the  Liberal  army,  and  when  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain in  a  scornful  speech  of  fierce  rebellion  against  his  rule 
— Mr.  Chamberlain  was  then  a  Radical — spoke  of  Lord 
Hartington  contem-ptuously  as  the  "  late  leader  of  the  Lib- 
eral party."  Mr.  Chamberlain  has  reinstated  Lord  Harting- 
ton in  the  lofty  position  from  which  he  then  dethroned  him; 
it  remains  to  be  seen  how  long  that  "  truce  of  God  "   will 


THE   THIRTY  TYRANTS.  177 

last;  he  has  for  the  moment  cashiered  his  master,  it  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  he  has  not,  in  the  words  of  Shakespeare's 
"  Rosalind,"  "  overthrown-  more  than  his  enemies." 

More  curious  perhaps  even  to  the  philosophic  mind  than 
the  contrast  of  the  past  with  the  present  Chamberlain,  was 
the  contrast  of  the  past  with  the  present  Bright.  Parliamen- 
tarians, and  politicians  who  are  not  Parliamentarians,  need 
not  have  very  long  memories  to  recollect  a  certain  famous 
"  cave  "  of  nineteen  years  ago  which  also  had  the  tempo- 
rary triumph  of  overthrowing  Mr.  Gladstone.  The  mem- 
bers of  that  "cave"  are  known  to  satiric  history  as  the 
"tea-room  party,"  and  they  became  the  victims  of  the 
scornful  invective  of  Mr.  Bright  at  a  time  when  Mr.  Bright' s 
invective  was  still  a  serious  weapon.  Mr.  Bright  was  indig- 
nantly eager  to  be  informed  what  could  be  done  in  Parlia- 
mentary life  if  every  man  was  to  pursue  his  own  little  game. 
'*A  costermonger  and  his  donkey,"  Mr.  Bright  said, 
"  would  take  a  week  to  travel  from  here  to  London" — (he 
was  addressing  a  meeting  in  Birmingham) — "and  yet  by 
running  athwart  the  London  and  Northwestern  line,  they 
might  bring  to  total-  destruction  a  great  express  train." 
The  Costermonger  and  his  Donkey  are  at  work  again — I 
leave  the  leaders  of  the  "  Cave  "  to  divide  between  them- 
selves the  doubtful  honor  of  the  two  titles  at  their  old  busi- 
ness of  wrecking  trains,  and  behold  this  time  we  have  Mr. 
Bright  perched  upon  the  barrow — a  tragi-comic  bier  enough 
for  a  great  political  reputation.  Mr.  Bright  added  some 
words  to  his  ingenious  parable  of  1867,  which  members  of 
the  "stalwart"  party  would  do  well  to  paste  inside  their 
hats.  "Thus,"  he  went  on,  "very  small  men,  who  during 
their  whole  political  lives  have  not  advanced  the  question 
of  reform  by  one  hair's  breadth,  or  by  one  moment  in  time, 
can  at  a  critical  hour  like  this  throw  themselves  athwart  the 
objects  of  a  great  party,  and  mar,  it  may  be,  a  great  measure 


178  HOURS   WITH  GREAT  IRISHMEN, 

that  ought  to  affect  the  interests  of  the  country  beneficially? 
for  all  time."  I  have  one  more  quotation  to  make  from 
Mr.  Bright  before  I  have  done  with  him.  He  made  a 
speech  in  Dublin  in  1866,  in  the  days  when  he  still  professed 
to  be  the  friend  of  Ireland,  in  which  he  said:  "  If  I  have  in 
past  times  felt  an  unquenchable  sympathy  with  the  suffer- 
ings of  your  people,  you  may  rely  upon  it  that  if  there  be 
an  Irish  member  to  speak  for  Ireland  he  will  find  me  heartily 
at  his  side."  Mr.  Bright  once  scored  a  strong  point  against 
certain  of  his  enemies  by  comparing  them  to  the  False 
Prophets  in  Scripture  story  whose  "tongues  were  glibbed 
with  lies."  What  shall  be  said  of  Mr.  Bright  as  a  prophet 
now  ?  Twenty  years  ago  he  volunteered  to  stand  by  the 
side  of  a  single  Irish  member;  last  night  he  was  face  to  face 
with  eighty-five  Irish  members,  and  he  voted  against  Ireland 
and  against  freedom. 

Enough  of  this  "cave"  and  its  composition.  I  fancy 
that  some  of  the  inmates  of  that  "cave"  are  in  about  as 
pleasant  a  position  as  Sinbad  the  sailor  was  in  when  he 
found  himself  in  his  cave.  I  fancy  that  many  of  these 
Adullamites  felt  in  their  hearts  much  the  same  desire  that 
Sinbad  felt  with  regard  to  his  Cave,  either  that  they  had 
never  got  into  it,  or,  having  got  in,  they  might  happily  win 
their  way  out  again.  I  fancy,  too,  that  the  political  lives 
of  many  of  them  will  be  sacrificed  as  the  lives  of  the  com- 
panions of  Sinbad  were  sacrificed  in  order  that  Sinbad 
may  escape,  and  that  the  floor  of  the  "  Cave  "  will  be'' whit- 
ened with  the  bones  of  ruined  reputation.  The  "genial 
ruffianism  "  which  Mr.  Labouchere  playfully  discovers  in 
Mr.  Caine  may  have  its  attractions  to  the  speculative  mind 
of  the  member  for  Northhampton,  but  familiarity  therewith 
may  be  purchased  by  luckless  "stalwarts"  at  too  dear  a 
price. 

The  fate  of  this  particular  measure  does  not  greatly  con- 


THE  THIRTY  TYRANTS.  1'79 

cerd  us.  It  has  fallen  a  victim  to  the  cabal  of  a  faction,  to 
the  alarm  of  that  well-nigh  extinct  political  curiosity,  the 
"Old  Whig,"  and  to  the  intrigues  of  embittered  and  am- 
bitious selfishness.  Though  fear  and  faction,  and  that 
fierce  desire  to  become  a  Personage  which  has  made  the 
honorable  member  for  Burnley  the  Lepidus  of  the  discon- 
tented Triumvirate,  though  these  and  all  the  other  allies 
that  could  be  rallied  have  succeeded  in  upsetting  the  meas- 
ure, neither  the  Irish  Party,  nor  Ireland,  nor  the  millions 
of  Ireland's  friends  in  England,  are  in  the  least  dismayed. 
The  principle  of  Home  Rule  for  Ireland  was  established  for- 
ever on  the  eighth  of  last  April.  Were  the  cabal  against  the 
Bill  ten  times  more  numerous,  were  its  leaders  ten  times 
more  able  and  influential,  it  could  not  prevail  against  the 
great,  the  inevitable  principle  of  Home  Rule  for  Ireland. 
The  principle  of  progress,  the  principle  of  liberty  and  jus- 
tice, once  laid  down  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  a  great 
Liberal  Minister,  can  never  more  be  gone  back  upon, 
abandoned,  or  lost.  The  sun  stood  still,  indeed,  upon 
Ajalon  for  the  Jewish  captain,  but  no  such  miraculous  in- 
terference with  the  courses  of  nature  will  be  vouched  for 
the  "  Cave  "  inside  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  Loyal 
and  Patriotic  Union  outside  it.  So  surely  as  the  days  will 
move  in  their  appointed  measure,  indifferent  alike  to  the 
indignation  of  the  noble  marquis  or  the  screams  of  Mr. 
Lecky,  so  surely  will  the  principle  of  Home  Rule  for  Ire- 
land proceed  upon  its  triumphant  course,  gaining  power  and 
volume  and  dignity,  till  it  end  at  College  Green. 


NOTE  BY  THE  PUBLISHERS. 


Mr.  McCarthy's  "  Outline  of  Irish  History"  is  really  a 
glance  over  the  annals  of  Ireland  from  a  conservative  stand- 
point. It  prepares  the  way  for  a  more  extensive  reading 
of  what  is,  after  all,  the  history  of  the  most  popular  strug- 
gle for  liberty  of  all  time.  The  Irish  flag  has  never  been 
lowered.  Raised  in  the  beginning  centuries  ago  for  na- 
tional defense  and  national  independence,  it  has  been  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation  unfailingly.  At  times 
the  struggle  has  taken  different  shapes,  but  the  main  charac- 
ter has  ever  remained  the  same.  Under  the  banner  of  Irish 
nationality  have  been  fought  the  battles  of  equality,  of  civil 
and  religious  liberty,  the  wars  of  "  the  masses  against  the 
classes,"  and  to  Ireland,  fettered  and  bound  as  she  is,  and 
as  anomalous  as  it  may  seem,  is  in  no  small  degree  due  the 
onward  march  of  democracy  both  in  Europe  and  elsewhere. 
In  future  numbers  of  our  Library  we  shall  give  the  chapters 
of  Irish  history  in  all  their  interesting  detail.  How  closely 
connected  with  the  story  of  human  progress  that  history  is, 
will  yet  be  the  theme  of  many  a  commentator  when  success 
crowns  all  the  glorious  effort  that  has  been  made  in  behalf 
of  Irish  nationality.  In  the  meantime  we  hold  that  no  ade- 
quate idea  of  what  humanity  has  had  to  contend  with  in  its 
progress  towards  higher  civilization  can  be  had  without  a 
study  of  Irish  history. 


AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

From  the  Earliest  Times  to  the 
Present  Day. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE     LEGENDS. 


As  we  peer  doubtfully  into  the  dim  past  of  Irish  his- 
tory Vv^e  seem  to  stand  like  Odysseus  at  the  yawning 
mouth  of  Hades.  The  thin. shades  troop  about  us,  and 
flit  hither  and  thither  fitfully  in  shadowy  confusion. 
Stately  kings  sweep  by  in  their  painted  chariots.  Yel- 
low-haired heroes  rush  to  battle  shaking  their  spears 
and  shouting  their  war-songs,  while  the  thick  gold  tor- 
ques rattle  on  arm  and  throat,  and  their  many-colored 
cloaks  stream  on  the  wind.  They  sweep  by  and  are 
lost  to  sight,  and  their  places  are  taken  by  others  in  a 
shifting,  splendid,  confused  pageant  of  monarchs  and 
warriors,  and  beautiful  women  for  whose  love  the  hereos 
are  glad  to  die  and  the  kings  to  peril  their  crowns  ; 
and  among  them  all  move  the  majestic,  white-robed 
bards,  striking  their  golden  harps  and  telling  the  tales 
of  the  days  of  old,  and  handing  down  the  names  of 
heroes  forever.  What  may  we  hope  to  distinguish  of 
this  weltering  world  of  regal  figures,  whirled  by  before 
our  eyes  as  on  that  infernal  wind  which  seared  the  eyes 
of  Dante  ?  The  traveller  in  Egypt  goes  down  into  the 
tombs  of  the  kings  at  ancient  Thebes.  By  the  flaring 
flicker  of  a  candle  he  discerns  dimly  on  the  walls  about 
him  endless  processions  of  painted  figures — the  images 
of  Jtings  and  beggars,  of  soldiers  and  slaves,  of  the  teem- 
ing life  of  ages — portrayed  in  glowing  colors  all  around. 
It  is  but  for  a  moment,  while  his  candle  is  slowly  burn- 
ing down,  that  he  seems  to  stand  in  the  thronged  cen- 


182  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

turies  of  Egyptian  dynasties  with  all  their  named  and 
nameless  figures  ;  and  then  he  passes  out  again  into 
the  upper  air  and  level  sunlight  of  the  Theban  valley, 
as  one  who  has  dreamed  a  chaotic  dream. 

Groping  in  the  forgotten  yesterday  of  Irish  legend  is 
like  this  groping  in  an  Egyptian  tomb.  We  are  in  a 
great  sepulchral  chamber — a  hall  of  the  dead,  whose 
walls  are  pictured  with  endless  figures,  huddled  to- 
gether in  bewildering  fantastic  medley.  What  can  we 
make  out,  holding  up  our  thin  taper  and  gazing  doubt- 
fully at  the  storied  walls  ?  Yon  fair  woman,  with  the 
crowd  of  girls  about  her,  is  the  Lady  Ceasair,  who  came 
to  Ireland  before  the  deluge,  with  fifty  women  and  three 
men,  Bith,  Ladra,  and  Fintain.  The  waters  swept  away 
this  curiously  proportioned  colony,  and  their  place  was 
taken  "in  the  sixtieth  year  of  the  age  of  Abraham"  by 
the  parricide  Partholan,  of  the  stock  of  Japhet.  For 
three  hundred  years  his  descendants  ruled,  until  a  pesti- 
lence destroyed  them  all.  The  Nemedhians,  under  Ne- 
medh,  loomed  up  from  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  and 
swarmed  over  Ireland.  They  were  harassed  by  plagues 
and  by  incessant  battlings  w4th  the  Fomorians,  a  race 
of  savage  sea-kings,  descendants  of  Cham,  who  had 
settled  in  the  Western  Isles.  In  the  end  the  Fomorians 
triumphed  ;  they  drove  out  the  remnant  of  Nemedhians 
whom  plague  and  sword  had  spared.  This  remnant 
fled,  some  to  the  north  of  Europe  to  become  the  ances- 
tors of  the  Firbolgs,  some  to  Greece  to  give  a  parent- 
age to  the  Tuatha  de  Danann,  and  some  to  Britain, 
which  took  its  name  from  the  Nemedhian  leader,  Bri- 
otan-Maol. 

After  a  time,  the  first  of  the  Nemedhian  refugees,  the 
Firbolgs,  came  back  to  Ireland,  to  be  soon  dispossessed 
by  another  invasion  of  Nemedhian  descendants,  the 
Tuatha  de  Danann,  who  came  from  Greece,  and  who 
were  deeply  skilled  in  all  wizardries.  Their  sorceries 
stood  them  in  good  stead,  for  the  Firbolgs  made  a  fierce 
resistance.  A  desperate  battle  was  fought,  in  which 
the  Firbolg  king  was  slain.  His  grave  is  still  shown 
on  the  Sligo  strand,  and  it  is  fabled  that  the  tide  w^l 
never  cover  it.  Nuada,  the  king  of  the  Tuatha  de 
Danann,  lost  his  right  hand  in  this  fight,  and  seems  to 
have  gone  near  losing  his  kingship  in  consequence,  as 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY,  183 

his  warlike  people  would  have  refused  to  recognize  a 
mutilated  monarch.  But  there  were  cunning  artificers 
among  the  Greeks.  One  of  these  fashioned  a  silver 
hand  for  the  king,  who  was  known  as  Nuada  of  the 
Silver  Hand  ever  after.  The  first  of  "  The  Three  Sor- 
rowful Tales  of  Erin  "  belongs  to  the  reign  of  this  Sov- 
ereign with  the  Argent  fist — the  tale  of  the  fate  of  the 
children  of  Turenn.  The  three  sons  of  Turenn,  Brian, 
Ur,  and  Urcar,  killed  Kian,  father  of  Luga  of  the  Long 
Arms,  and  one  of  the  three  sons  of  Canta,  with  whom 
the  three  sons  of  Turenn  were  at  feud.  Six  times  the 
sons  of  Turenn  buried  the  body  of  their  victim,  and  six 
times  the  earth  cast  it  up  again,  but  on  the  seventh 
burial  the  body  remained  in  the  grave.  As  the  sons  of 
Turenn  rode  from  the  spot  a  faint  voice  came  from  the 
ground,  warning  them  that  the  blood  they  had  spilled 
would  follow  them  to  the  fulfilment  of  their  doom. 
Luga  of  the  long  Arms,  seeking  for  his  father,  came  to 
the  grave,  and  there  the  stones  of  the  earth  took  voice 
and  told  him  that  his  father  lay  beneath.  Luga  un- 
earthed the  body,  and  vowed  vengeance  on  the  sons  of 
Turenn  over  it.  He  then  hastened  to  Tara,  to  the 
court  of  Nuada  of  the  Silver  Hand,  and  denounced  the 
sons  of  Turenn.  In  those  days  the  friends  of  any  mur- 
dered person  might  either  receive  a  fine,  called  "  eric," 
in  compensation,  or  might  seek  the  death  of  the  mur- 
derer. Luga  called  for  the  ''eric."  He  demanded 
three  apples,  the  skin  of  a  pig,  a  spear,  two  steeds  and 
a  chariot,  seven  pigs,  a  hound-whelp,  a  cooking-spit, 
and  three  shouts  on  a  hill.  To  this  ''  eric  "  the  sons  of 
Turenn  agreed  readily  enough  before  all  the  court. 
Then  Luga  explained  himself  more  fully.  The  three 
apples  were  to  be  plucked  from  the  garden  of  His- 
berna,  in  the  east  of  the  world.  They  were  the  color 
of  burnished  gold,  and  of  the  taste  of  honey,  and  cured 
wounds  and  all  manner  of  sickness,  and  had  many 
other  wonderful  qualities.  The  garden  of  Hisberna 
was  carefully  guarded,  and  none  were  allowed  to  take 
its  precious  fruit.  The  pig-skin  belonged  to  the  King 
of  Greece,  and  possessed  the  power  of  healing  whoso- 
ever touched  it.  The  spear  was  a  venomed  weapon 
with  a  blazing  head,  belonging  to  the  King  of  Persia. 
The  two  steeds  and  chariot  belonged  to  the  King  of 


184  AN   OUTLINE    OF   IRISH  HISTORY. 

Sicily.  The  seven  pigs  were  the  delight  of  Asal,  King 
of  the  Golden  Pillars,  for  they  could  be  killed  and 
eaten  one  day,  and  become  alive  and  well  the  next. 
The  hound-whelp  belonged  to  the  King  of  Iroda,  and 
every  wild  beast  of  the  forest  fell  powerless  before  it. 
The  cooking-spit  belonged  to  the  warlike  women  of  the 
island  of  Fincara,  who  never  yet  gave  a  cooking-spit  to 
any  one  who  did  not  overcome  them  in  battle.  The  hill 
on  which  the  three  shouts  had  to  be  given  was  the  hill 
of  Midkena,  in  the  north  of  Lochlann,  the  country  of 
the  Danes,  which  w^as  always  guarded  by  Midkena  and 
his  sons,  who  never  allowed  any  one  to  shout  on  it. 

The  sons  of  Turenn  were  much  daunted  by  this  ter- 
rible "  eric,"  but  they  were  bound  to  fulfil  it.  They 
set  sail  in  an  enchanted  canoe,  the  ]Vave  Sweeper^  to 
the  garden  of  Hisberna,  and  succeeded,  by  turning 
themselves  into  hawks,  in  carrying  off  the  apples  They 
then  visited  Greece  in  the  guise  of  learned  poets  from 
Erin,  and  after  a  desperate  fight  overcame  the  King  of 
Greece  and  his  champions,  and  carried  off  the  pig-skin. 
Leaving  the  shores  of  Greece  "  and  all  its  blue  streams," 
they  sailed  to  Persia,  where  they  had  to  fight  another 
battle  with  the  king  before  they  could  carry  off  the 
blazing  weapon  in  triumph.  They  then  voyaged  to 
Sicily,  overcame  its  monarch,  and  drove  off  the  famous 
chariot  and  horses.  Next  came  the  turn  of  Asal,  King 
of  the  Golden  Pillars,  but  their  fame  had  gone  before 
them,  and  Asal  gave  up  his  seven  pigs  without  a  con- 
test. He  even  accompanied  them  to  Iroda,  and  aided 
them  to  obtain  the  hound-whelp. 

Meanwhile  the  fame  of  the  successes  of  the  sons  of 
Turenn  had  come  to  Erin,  and  Luga  of  the  Long  Arms 
cast  a  Druidical  spell  over  them,  so  that  they  quite  for- 
got the  cooking-spit  and  the  three  shouts  on  a  hill,  and 
came  back  to  Erin  thinking  that  they  had  fulfilled 
their  ''eric."  But  when  Luga  saw  their  spoils,  he  re- 
minded them  of  the  unfulfilled  part  of  the  compact,  and 
the  heroes  had  to  set  out  again  with  heavy  hearts,  for 
they  knew  that  Luga  desired  their  death.  When  Brian 
got  to  the  island  of  Fincara,  which  lies  beneath  the 
sea,  his  beauty  so  pleased  the  warlike  women  that  they 
gave  him  a  cooking-spit  without  any  trouble.  Now  all 
that  was  left  to  the  heroes  to  do  was  to  shout  the  three 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  185 

shouts  on  Midkena's  hill.  They  sailed  out  into  the 
north  till  they  came  to  it,  and  there  they  fought  des- 
perately with  Midkena  and  his  sons,  and  overcame  and 
killed  them.  But  they  were  wounded  themselves  nigh 
unto  death,  and  with  the  greatest  difficuly  they  raised 
three  feeble  shouts  on  Midkena's  hill.  Then,  wounded 
as  they  were,  they  sailed  back  to  Erin,  and  implored 
Luga  to  let  them  taste  of  the  apples  of  Hisberna,  that 
they  might  recover.  But  Luga  taunted  them  with  their 
murder  of  his  father,  and  would  be  content  with  noth- 
ing short  of  their  death  ;  so  they  died,  and  the  blood 
of  Kian  was  avenged. 

While  Nuada's  silver  hand  was  making,  his  place  as 
king  was  taken  by  a  regent  named  Bres.  But  when  the 
silver  hand  was  finished,  Bres  had  to  resign,  to  his  great 
wrath  ;  and  he  left  the  country  and  roused  up  a  huge  host 
of  Fomorians  under  Balor  of  the  Mighty  Blows,  and  in- 
vaded Ireland,  and  was  totally  defeated.  Balor  of  the 
Mighty  Blows  slew  the  poor  silver-handed  monarch, 
and  was  slain  in  his  turn  by  Luga  Long- Arms.  Then 
Luga  became  king  himself,  and  reigned  long  and  happi- 
ly, and  many  Tuatha  de  Danann  reigned  after  him.  But 
their  time  came  at  last  to  be  overthrown  by  a  fifth  set 
of  invaders — the  Milesians,  the  sons  of  Milidh.  The 
Milesians  were  an  eastern  race,  whom  hoar  tradition 
had  set  seeking  a  destined  island  ;  and  they  pursued  the 
star  of  their  destiny,  the  fine-eyed  UU-Erin,  to  the  Irish 
shore.  But  they  had  no  small  trouble  to  win  their 
way  ;  the  Tuatha  de  Danann  kept  them  off  as  long  as 
they  could  by  spells  and  incantations,  which  wrapped 
the  Milesian  fleet  in  thick  folds  of  impenetrable  mist, 
and  shook  it  with  storms,  and  tossed  the  ships  together 
on  writhing  waves.  In  that  fierce  tempest  of  dark  en- 
chantments many  of  the  sons  of  Milidh  perished  ;  but 
they  effected  a  landing  at  last,  and  carried  all  before 
them,  and  drove  the  De  Danann  into  the  fastnesses  of 
the  hills  ;  and  the  Milesian  leaders,  Heber  and  Heremon, 
divided  the  island  between  them.  They  quarrelled 
about  the  division  soon  after,  and  Heremon  killed  He- 
ber and  took  the  whole  island  to  himself — a  Milesian 
version  of  Romulus.  To  this  period  belongs  the  second 
sorrowful  tale  of  Erin — the  tale  of  the  fate  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Lir, 


186  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

After  the  battle  of  Tailltenn,  in  which  the  Milesians 
won  Ireland,  the  defeated  Tuatha  de  Danann  of  the  five 
provinces  met  together  and  chose  Bove  Derg  king  over 
them  all.  Lir,  of  Shee  Finnalia,  alone  refused  to  ac- 
knowledge the  new  monarch,  and  retired  to  his  own 
country.  Some  of  the  chieftains  called  for  vengeance 
on  Lir,  but  Bove  Derg  resolved  to  win  his  allegiance 
by  friendship.  He  offered  him  the  choice  of  his  three 
foster-daughters — Eve,  Eva,  and  Alva — in  marriage. 
Lir  relented,  recognized  the  authority  of  Bove  Derg, 
and  married  Eve,  who  bore  him  one  daughter,  Finola, 
and  three  sons,  Aed,  Ficia,  and  Conn.  Eve  died.  Lir  was 
for  a  time  inconsolable,  but  on  the  advice  of  Bove  Derg 
he  married  the  second  foster-daughter,  Eva.  The  new 
step-mother,  after  the  fashion  of  fairytales,  grew  jealous 
of  Lir's  love  for  his  children,  and,  like  the  woman  in 
the  German  folk-story,  turned  them  into  swans.  Mere 
metamorphosis  did  not  content  her ;  she  laid  this 
further  doom  on  the  children  of  Lir — that  they  must 
pass  three  hundred  years  on  the  smooth  Lake  Darvan, 
three  hundred  years  on  the  wild  Sea  of  Moyle,  and  yet 
three  hundred  more  on  the  Western  Sea.  Nor  was  the 
spell  to  be  loosened  until  the  sound  of  a  Christian  bell 
was  first  heard  in  Erin.  The  only  mitigation  of  their 
sufferings  w^as  the  privilege  of  retaining  their  human 
voices.  The  wricked  step-mother  was  punished  by  Bove 
Derg  by  being  turned  into  a  demon  of  the  air  ;  but  the 
children  of  Lir  had  to  dree  their  weird  for  the  nine  ap- 
pointed centuries  until  the  coming  of  Christianity,  when 
they  were  disenchanted  by  St.  Kemoc.  In  their  human 
form  they  were  very,  old  ;  the  saint  baptized  them,  and 
they  died  and  went  to  heaven. 

What  shall  be  said  of  the  hundred  and  eighteen 
kings  of  the  Milesian  race  ?  Which  of  those  crowned 
figures  is  Tighearnmas,  who  first  taught  the  Irish  the 
worship  of  idols,  and  who  distinguished  his  people 
into  different  ranks  by  the  different  hues  of  their  gar- 
ments ?  Or  the  wise  Ollav  Fodhla  ?  Or  that  Cim- 
baoth,  of  whom  the  good  chronicler  Tighernach,  Abbot 
of  Clonmacnoise,  wrote  that  all  the  Irish  records  be- 
fore him  were  uncertain  ? — a  respectable  antiquity 
enough,  if  we  might  but  take  this  Chimbaoth  and  his 
deeds    for    granted ;  for   Pythagoras    had    just   been 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  187 

crowned  in  the  sixteenth  Olympiad,  and  Numa  Pom- 
pilius  was  still  listening  to  the  sweet  counsels  of  the 
nymph  Egeria  in  the  cave  celebrated  by  Juvenal,  when 
Cimbaoth  reigned. 

Cimbaoth  built  the  palace  of  Emania.  Ugaine 
Mor  laid  all  Ireland  under  solemn  oath,  fearful  as  the 
ancient  pledge  by  Styx  ;  for  he  bound  them  by  the 
visible  and  invisible  elements  to  respect  the  rule  of  his 
race.  But  the  oath  was  like  thin  air,  and  bound  no 
one.  Ugaine's  son  Lore,  and  Lore's  son  Oileel  Ainey, 
were  slain  by  Lore's  younger  brother  Corvac.  But 
Corvac  did  not  slay  the  grandson  Lara  ;  for  the  boy 
feigned  idiocy,  and  the  cruel  king  spared  him — to  his 
own  doom  ;  for  the  boy  was  brought  up  by  a  faithful 
harper,  and  in  the  fulness  of  time  married  a  king's 
fair  daughter,  and  passed  over  to  France,  and  brought 
thence  an  army  of  stout  Gaulish  spearmen,  and  came 
back  to  his  own,  and  slew  Corvac,  and  founded  a 
mighty  line.  One  of  his  most  famous  descendants  was 
Yeoha,  surnamed  the  "  Sigher  "  for  the  sorrows  he  en- 
dured. For  he  married  a  fairy  bride,  whom  he  loved 
tenderly  ;  but  after  a  time  there  came  a  stranger  from 
the  land  of  the  fairies,  and  bore  her  back  to  the  fairy 
world,  and  with  her  went  all  the  joy  of  Yehoa's  life. 
Then  his  three  sons  rose  in  shameful  rebellion  against 
him,  and  were  all  slain,  and  their  heads  were  laid  at 
their  father's  feet.  Good  cause  for  sighing  had  Yeoha. 
But  he  was  not  all  unhappy.  His  fairy  bride  had 
borne  him  a  fairy  daughter,  the  beautiful  and  gifted 
Meave,  famous  in  Irish  chronicles,  and  destined  to 
fame  through  all  the  world  as  Queen  Mab.  Meave  was 
a  fierce,  warlike  woman,  a  very  Semiramis  of  early 
Irish  story.  She  married  three  husbands,  and  quar- 
relled with  them  all.  In  her  reign  occurred  a  battle 
between  two  bulls,  which  is  recounted  by  the  bards 
with  all  Homeric  gravity.  Meave  lived  a  hundred 
years,  and  waged  war  with  a  great  hero,  Cucullin,  and 
at  last  the  fierce  queen  died  and  passed  away.  To  her 
time  belongs  the  third  of  the  sorrowful  tales  of  Erin — 
the  story  of  Deirdri,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  bard 
Felemi,  doomed  at  her  birth  to  bring  woe  to  Ulster. 

Conor  Mac  Nessa,  the  King  of  Ulster,  adopted  her, 
kept  her  secluded,  like  Danae,  in  a  guarded  place — not 


188  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

SO  well  guarded  but  that  she  was  once  seen  by  Naesi,  son 
of  Usna.  Naesi  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  she  with  him. 
He  carried  her  off  with  the  aid  of  his  two  brothers, 
Anli  and  Ardan.  Conor  offered  to  pardon  them  if  they 
came  back  to  Emania,  and  in  the  end  they  did  agree  to 
return,  escorted  by  a  legion  of  soldiers  under  Fiachy,  a 
gallant  young  noble.  As  they  approached  Emania, 
Deirdri,  whose  heart  forebode  evil,  declared  that  she 
saw  a  blood-red  cloud  hanging  in  the  distant  sky.  Her 
fears  were  well  founded.  When  they  drew  near  the 
king's  capital,  another  noble,  Durthacht,  with  another 
escort,  came  from  Conor,  and  called  upon  Fiachy  to 
yield  him  his  charge.  Fiachy  suspected  the  treachery, 
refused  to  yield  up  the  sons  of  Usna  and  the  beautiful 
Deirdri,  put  them  into  a  palace,  and  guarded  it  with 
his  troops.  It  Avas  his  duty,  he  said,  to  show  that  the 
sons  of  Usna  had  not  trusted  in  vain  to  the  king's  word 
or  his  good  faith.  Then  Durthacht  began  the  assault. 
The  sons  of  Usna  wished  to  surrender  themselves,  but 
Fiachy  would  not  allow  this — would  not  even  permit 
them  to  take  any  share  in  the  defence  ;  it  was  his  duty, 
and  his  alone.  Then  the  sons  of  Usna  and  Deirdri  with- 
drew into  the  palace,  and  Deirdri  and  Naesi  played 
chess,  and  Anli  and  Ardan  looked  on  Vv^hile  the  battle 
raged  outside.  This  battle  deserves  a  place  in  story 
with  the  fierce  strife  in  the  halls  of  Attila  which  ends 
the  ''Niebelungen  Lied."  All  through  the  bloody 
struggle  the  sons  of  Usna  seemed  intent  alone  upon 
the  game  they  were  playing,  and  as  defence  after  de- 
fence of  the  palace  was  taken  they  remained  unmoved, 
till  at  last  Fiachy  was  killed,  and  the  enemy  rushed  in 
and  slew  the  sons  of  Usna  at  the  board,  and  carried  off 
Deirdri  to  Conor.  But  the  king  had  no  joy  of  her, 
for  she  killed  herself  soon  after. 

Meave's  descendants  ruled  till  the  reign  of  Fiacha 
Finnolaidh,  when  there  occurred  a  revolt  of  some  tribes 
called  the  Attacotti,  under  a  leader  nicknamed  ''  Cat- 
Head."  They  slew  the  king,  and  placed  Cat-Head  on 
his  throne.  After  his  death  the  rightful  heirs  came  back, 
and  the  earth  showed  its  approval  by  bountiful  pro- 
duce :  fruitful  meadows,  fishful  rivers,  and  many-headed 
woods  proclaimed  the  joy  of  the  Irish  earth  at  the  re- 
turn of  its  true  lords.     But  the  Attacotti  rose   again 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH   HISTORY.  189 

and  killed  a  rightful  king,  and  a  curse  came  upon  the 
earth,  and  it  was  fruitless  and  cornless  and  fishless,  till 
once  again  a  king  of  the  old  race,  Tuathal,  seized  the 
throne  from  the  usurpers,  and  pledged  the  people  by- 
sun  and  moon  and  elements  to  leave  the  sceptre  un- 
troubled to  his  posterity.  Tuathal  then  took  a  piece 
of  land  from  each  of  the  four  provinces,  and  formed  the 
kingdom  of  Meath  to  be  the  dwelling  of  the  Ard-Righ  ; 
and  he  built  there  four  painted  palaces,  one  for  the  king 
of  each  province. 

Conn  of  the  Hundred  Fights,  beloved  of  the  bards, 
is  the  next  famous  king.  After  Conn's  death  the  land 
passed  to  a  usurper,  Mac  Con,  for  a  time  only,  to  re- 
turn to  the  most  famous  of  the  early  kings,  Cormac 
Mac  Art,  in  whose  reign  the  Feni  flourished.  The  Feni 
are  strange  and  shadowy  figures,  Ossianic  ghosts,  mov- 
ing in  dusky  vales,  and  along  hill-sides  clothed  with 
echoing  woods  and  seamed  with  the  many-colored  sides 
of  roaring  streams  ;  or  by  the  angry  sea,  where  the 
screaming  sea-bird  wings  his  flight  tow^ards  the  dark 
rolling  heavens,  where  the  awful  faces  of  other  times 
look  out  from  the  clouds,  and  the  dread  deities  keep 
their  cloudy  halls,  and  the  nightly  fires  burn.  It  is  a 
land  of  mists  and  rains,  through  w^hich  the  figures  of 
the  heroes  loom  gigantic.  They  are  the  kings  of  shag- 
gy boars,  the  dwellers  on  battle's  wing.  They  joy  in 
the  chase,  with  their  gray,  rough-eared  dogs  about 
them.  They  rush  against  each  other  in  war  like  the 
murmur  of  many  waters,  clashing  their  iron  shields  and 
shouting  their  surly  songs  ;  they  remember  the  deeds 
of  the  days  of  old,  and  deathswander  like  shadows  over 
their  fiery  souls.  Shadowy  Death  floats  over  the  hosts, 
and  rejoices  at  the  frequent  victims.  When  a  hero  falls, 
his  soul  goes  forth  to  his  fathers  in  their  stormy  isle, 
where  they  pursue  boars  of  mist  along  the  skirts  of 
winds.  Women,  w^hite-bosomed  and  beautiful,  move 
like  the  music  of  songs  through  these  antique  tales, 
loving  and  beloved  by  heroes  and  kings  of  heroes. 

Many  of  the  stories  have  for  their  hero  Finn,  the  son 
of  Coul,  the  Fingal  of  the  Scottish  Ossian.  Around 
him  are  his  Feni,  who  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  him 
that  the  twelve  peers  do  to  Charlemagne,  or  the 
Knights  of   the    Round  Table   to  Arthur.     Oisin,  the 


190  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

sweet  singer  ;  Oscar,  his  glorious  son,  the  Roland  of 
tlie  Feni  ;  Dermat,  of  whom  it  might  be  said,  as  of 
Malory's  Launcelot,  that  he  was  "the  truest  lover  of  a 
sinful  man  that  ever  loved  woman  ; "  Bering,  the  be- 
loved of  Finn,  and  Kylta,  the  leader  of  the  Clan  Ronan  ; 
Conan,  the  comic  glutton,  of  craven  spirit  and  bitter 
tongue,  a  more  grotesque  Thersites  ;  Fergus  Finnvel, 
the  warrior  poet,  reminding  one  of  the  Fiddler  Knight 
in  the  ''Niebelungen  Lied  ;"  Ligna,  the  swift-footed  ; 
Gaul,  the  leader  of  the  Clan  Morna,  whose  enmity  to 
the  Clan  Baskin  made  the  battle  of  Gawra  the  Ronces- 
valles  of  the  Feni.  These  are  all  heroes,  going  through 
all  dangers,  ever  ready  to  do  and  to  suffer  bravely,  bat- 
tling with  all  the  powers  of  darkness,  loyal  to  each 
other,  tender  and  courteous  with  women,  gallant  and 
goodly  men,  models  of  an  early  chivalry.  Nor  are 
Finn's  famous  dogs  to  be  forgotten — Brann  and  Sko- 
lan,  the  companions  of  all  his  huntings  and  all  his  dan- 
gers. 

Finn  himself  is  a  marvellous  figure.  In  his  youth, 
he,  like  Theseus,  destroyed  all  sorts  of  fearful  mon- 
sters. He  had  also  the  privilege  on  occasion  of  know- 
ing the  future.  His  hair  was  gray  through  enchant- 
ment long  before  old  age  had  clawed  him  in  its  clutch. 
Two  fair  sisters  had  loved  him,  and  one  of  them  said 
to  the  other  that  she  could  never  love  a  man  with  gray 
hair.  Then  the  other  sister,  despairing  of  winning 
Finn  herself,  lured  him  into  an  enchanted  pool,  which 
turned  him  into  a  withered  old  man.  The  angry  Feni 
forced  her  to  restore  to  their  leader  his  youth,  but  his 
hair  remained  gray  always. 

The  people  of  Lochlann,  in  the  north  of  Europe,  in- 
vaded Ireland  with  a  mighty  fleet,  but  were  wholly 
routed  by  the  Feni  under  Finn,  in  a  battle  in  which 
Oscar,  the  son  of  Oisin,  greatly  distinguished  himself. 
The  enemy  were  routed  with  great  slaughter,  their  king 
was  slain,  and  his  young  son,  Midac,  was  taken  prisoner. 
Finn  brought  up  Midac  in  the  ranks  of  the  Feni,  and 
treated  him  like  a  comrade  ;  but  Midac  w^as  always  med- 
itating revenge.  At  last,  after  fourteen  years,  Midac 
induced  Sinsar  of  Greece  and  the  Three  Kings  of  the 
Torrent  to  come  secretly  to  Ireland  with  a  mighty  host, 
and  they  waited  in  a  palace  in  an  island  of  the  Shannon, 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  191 

below  where  Limerick  now  is.  Then  Midac  lured  Finn, 
and  many  of  the  bravest  of  the  Feni,  who  were  on  a 
hunting  excursion,  into  a  dwelling  of  his,  the  palace 
of  the  Quicken  Trees,  as  the  mountain-ashes  were 
called.  The  palace  was  enchanted,  and  once  in  it  the 
heroes  found  themselves  unable  to  get  out,  or  even  to 
move.  So  they  set  themselves  to  sing,  in  slow  union, 
the  Dord-Fian,  the  war-song  of  their  race,  while  waiting 
death.  But  the  party  of  Feni  whom  Finn  had  left  be- 
hind him  when  he  went  to  the  Palace  of  the  Quicken 
Trees  began  to  grow  anxious,  and  Ficna,  Finn's  son, 
and  Innsa,  his  foster-brother,  set  out  to  look  for  them. 
When  the  pair  came  near  the  Palace  of  the  Quicken 
Trees  they  heard  the  strains  of  the  Dord-Fian  ;  so  they 
came  close,  and  Finn  heard  them,  and  calling  out,  told 
them  how  he  and  his  companions  were  trapped  and 
waiting  death,  and  that  nothing  could  free  them  from 
enchantment  but  the  blood  of  the  Three  Kings  of  the 
Torrent.  Luckily  for  Finn,  the  only  way  to  get  to  the 
Palace  of  the  Quicken  Trees  from  the  palace  of  the  isl- 
and, where  Minac  and  the  foreigners  were,  lay  over  a 
narrow  ford,  where  one  man  might  well  keep  a  thou- 
sand at  stand.  This  ford  Ficna  and  Innsa  defended 
against  desperate  odds  for  long  enough.  Innsa  was 
first  slain,  and  Ficna  is  engaged  in  a  desperate  struggle 
with  Midac  when  Dermat  appears  on  the  scene.  The 
Feni  who  were  at  the  hill  were  growing  impatient  for 
the  return  of  Ficna  and  Innsa,  so  Oisin  sent  Dermat 
and  Fatha  to  look  for  them.  As  they  approached  the 
Palace  of  the  Quicken  Trees  they  heard  the  noise  of 
fighting  at  the  ford.  Then  they  ran  like  the  wind  to  the 
hill-brow  over  the  river,  and  looking  across  in  the  dim 
moon-light,  saw  the  whole  ford  heaped  with  the  bodies 
of  the  slain,  and  Ficna  and  Midac  fighting  to  the  death. 
Dermat  hurled  his  spear  and  pierced  Midac,  who  struck 
Ficna  dead,  and  fell  dead  himself.  Then  Dermat  and 
Fatha  defended  the  ford  against  reinforcements  of  for- 
eigners, and  Dermat  soon  killed  the  Three  Kings  of  the 
Torrent,  and  undid  the  spell  that  held  Finn  and  his 
friends.  Then  all  the  Feni  came  together,  and  the  for- 
eigners were  routed  with  great  slaughter  ;  the  King  of 
Greece  and  his  son  were  both  slain,  and  the  remnant 


192  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

of  the  enemy  fled  to  their  ships  in  confusion  and  sailed 
away. 

The  friendship  of  Dermat  and  Finn  was  unfortunate- 
ly broken  for  a  woman's  sake.  Finn  sought  the  daugh- 
ter of  Cormac  Mac  Art,  the  beautiful  Grania,  in  mar- 
riage, but  the  beautiful  Grania  had  long  loved  the  fair- 
faced  Dermat,  in  secret.  When  she  saw  herself  about 
to  be  wedded  to  Finn,  no  longer  a  young  man,  she 
told  her  love  to  Dermat,  and  besought  him  to  carry  her 
away  from  Finn.  At  first,  Dermat,  loyal  to  his  king, 
refused,  though  he  was,  indeed,  deeply  in  love  with 
the  beautiful  Grania ;  but  Grania  placed  him  under 
*'gesa,"  a  kind  of  mysterious  command  which  heroes 
were  supposed  never  to  disobey,  to  marry  her  and  carry 
her  off.  Dermat,  in  despair,  consulted  with  his  bravest 
comrades,  with  Kylta,  and  Oscar,  and  Dering,  and  Oisin 
himself,  and  all  agreed  that  Finn  would  never  forgive 
him,  but  that  he  was  bound  to  go  with  Grania  and  take 
the  risk.  So  go  he  did,  and  fled  with  her  far  from  the 
court  of  King  Cormac.  But  great,  indeed,  w^as  the 
wrath  of  Finn,  and  for  long  after  he  pursued  Dermat 
and  Grania  from  place  to  place,  always  seeking  to  have 
Dermat  killed,  and  always  failing,  owing  to  the  skill  of 
Dermat.  All  the  sympathy  of  the  Feni  went  with  Der- 
mat, and  not  with  Finn.  Very  beautifully  the  old  story 
celebrates  the  love  of  Dermat  and  Grania,  and  the  gal- 
lant deeds  Dermat  did  for  her  sake.  At  last,  weary 
of  the  pursuit,  Finn  consented  to  pardon  Dermat,  but 
in  his  heart  he  always  cherished  hatred  against  him,  and 
when  Dermat  was  wounded  to  death  by  a  boar,  Finn 
refused  him  the  drink  of  water  w^hich,  from  his  hand, 
would  prove  a  cure.  So  Dermat  died,  to  the  great 
sorrow  and  anger  of  all  the  Feni.  The  story  is  one  of 
the  mort  beautiful,  as  it  is  the  saddest,  of  the  old  Irish 
legends. 

Oisin,  the  last  of  the  Feni,  is  said  to  have  outlived 
all  his  companions  by  many  centuries,  and  to  have  told 
of  them  and  their  deeds  to  St.  Patrick.  He  had  mar- 
ried a  beautiful  girl,  who  came  to  wed  him  from  a 
country  across  the  sea,  called  Tirnanoge,  and  there  he 
dwelt,  as  he  thought,  for  three,  but  as  it  proved,  for 
three  hundred,  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time  there 
came  on  him  a  great  longing  to  see  Erin  again,  and 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  193 

nfter  much  entreaty  his  fair  wife  allowed  him  to  return, 
on  the  one  condition  that  he  never  dismounted  from  a 
white  steed  which  she  gave  him.  When  he  got  to  Ire- 
land he  found  that  the  Feni  had  long  passed  away,  and 
that  only  the  distant  fame  of  them  lingered  in  men's 
minds.  Of  course  he  dismounts  from  the  horse — how 
many  fairy  tales  would  have  ended  happily  if  their 
heroes  had  only  done  as  they  were  told  ! — and  the  horse 
straightway  flies  away,  and  then  the  curse  of  his  old 
age  comes  upon  Oisin,  who  falls  to  the  ground  an  old, 
withered,  blind  man,  doomed  never  again  to  go  back 
to  Tirnanoge  and  his  fair  wife  and  his  immortal  youth. 
St.  Patrick  was  now  in  Ireland,  and  often  spoke  with 
Oisin,  who  never  tired  of  telling  of  the  heroes  of  his 
youth,  and  wondering  that  death  could  ever  have  laid 
hands  upon  their  bright  beauty.  Bitterly  he  com- 
plained of  the  sound  of  the  Christian  bell,  and  the 
hymns  of  the  Christian  clerics,  w^hich  had  enchanted 
and  destroyed  the  Feni.  "  There  is  no  joy  in  your 
strait  cells,"  Oisin  Avails.  ''There  are  no  women 
among  you,  no  cheerful  music  ; "  and  he  laments  for 
the  joys  of  his  youth,  the  songs  of  the  blackbirds,  the 
sound  of  the  wind,  the  cry  of  the  hounds  let  loose,  the 
wash  of  water  against  the  sides  of  ships,  and  the  clash 
of  arms,  and  the  sweet  voices  of  his  youth's  compeers. 


CHAPTER  IL 

CHRISTIANITY. 


The  authorities  for  all  this  wonderful  fanciful  legend, 
for  all  this  pompous  record  of  visionary  kings  and 
heroes,  are  to  be  found  in  the  ancient  Irish  manuscripts, 
in  the  Ossianic  songs,  in  the  annals  of  Tighernach,  of 
Ulster,  of  Inis  Mac  Nerinn,  of  Innisfallen,  and  of 
Boyle,  in  the  "  Chronicum  Scotorum,"  the  books  of 
Leinster  and  of  Ballymote,  the  Yellow  Book  of  Lecain, 
and  the  famous  Annals  of  the  Four  Masters,  which 
Michael  O'Clerigh,  the  poor  friar  of  the  Order  of  St. 


194  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Francis,  compiled  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  honor 
of  Ireland.  They  are  interpreted  and  made  accessible 
to  us  by  scholars  and  writers  like  O'Curry,  and  Fer- 
guson, and  Mr.  P.  W.  Joyce,  and  Mr.  Standish  O'Grady. 
These  and  others  have  translated  enough  to  show  that 
the  Irish  manuscripts  enclose  a  store  of  romantic 
records  and  heroic  tales  that  will  bear  comparison  well 
with  the  legends  and  the  folk-lore  of  any  other  coun- 
try. There  is  yet  much  to  do  in  the  way  of  translating 
and  popularizing  these  old  Irish  legends,  and  it  may 
well  be  hoped  and  believed  that  Irish  scholarship  will 
prove  itself  equal  to  the  task.  But  these  antique  tales 
are  not  history.  We  cannot  even  say  whether  they 
have  an  historical  basis.  It  matters  very  little.  They 
are  beautiful  legends,  in  any  case,  and,  like  the  tale  of 
the  Trojan  War,  and  the  records  of  the  Seven  Kings  of 
Rome,  they  may  be  believed  or  not,  according  to  the 
spirit  of  their  student.  It  is  more  probable  than  not 
that  they  have  a  foundation  of  truth.  Recent  discov- 
eries in  the  Troad  have  given  an  historical  position  to 
the  siege  of  Troy  ;  and  the  Irish  chronicles  have  no 
worse  claim  to  respect,  as  historic  documents,  than  the 
rhapsodies  of  the  Homeric  singer.  But  modern  histo- 
rians prefer  to  leave  the  Tuatha  de  Danann  and  the 
Milesians  undisturbed  in  their  shadowy  kingdom,  and 
content  themselves  with  suggesting  that  Ireland  was 
at  first  inhabited  by  a  Turanian  race,  and  that  there 
were  Celtic  and  Teutonic  immigrations. 

The  social  organization  of  pre-Christian  Ireland 
shows  many  remarkable  signs  of  civilization,  especi- 
ally in  its  treatment  of  women,  who  were  invested  with 
a  respect  and  dignity  not  common  in  the  early  history 
of  races.  In  the  legends,  women  receive  always  from 
men  a  tender  and  gracious  submission  that  rivals  the 
chivalry  of  the  Arthurian  romances  ;  and  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  this  was  not  confined  to  legend. 
The  married  woman  was  regarded  as  the  equal  of  her 
husband  no  less  than  if  she  had  lived  in  Rome,  and  re- 
peated on  her  wedding-day  the  famous  formula,  "  Ubi 
tu  Caius  ego  Caia."  The  religion  seems  to  have  been 
a  form  of  sun-worship,  regulated  by  Druids,  and  not, 
it  is  said — though  this  is  strongly  contested — unaccom- 
panied with  human  sacrifices.      The  people  were  di- 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  195 

vided  into  septs,  composed  of  families  bearing  the 
name  of  their  founder.  The  headman  of  each  family 
served  the  chief  of  the  sept,  and  each  septal  king  in 
his  turn  recognized  the  authority  of  the  Ard-Righ,  or 
chief  king.  All  chieftainships,  and  the  offices  of  Druid 
and  of  Brehon,  or  lawgiver,  were  elective.  During  the 
life  of  each  chief,  his  successor,  called  the  "  Tanist," 
was  chosen  from  the  same  family.  Land  was  held  by 
each  sept  in  common,  without  any  feudal  condition, 
and  primogeniture  was  unknown.  Legitimate  or  ille- 
gitimate sons  were  partners  with  their  father,  and  after 
his  death  took  equal  shares  of  his  holding.  The  Brehon 
criminal  laws  punished  almost  every  offence  by  more 
or  less  heavy  fines.  Agriculture  was  in  its  infancy. 
Wealth  lay  in  cattle,  pigs,  sheep,  and  horses.  Ore  and 
slaves  were  exported  to  the  Mediterranean  countries 
from  the  earliest  times.  The  people  dwelt  in  wattled 
houses,  and  their  palaces  were  probably  only  of  painted 
wood  built  on  dyked  and  palisaded  hills  ;  but  they  could 
build  strong  fortresses  and  great  sepulchral  chambers, 
and  raise  vast  cromlechs  over  their  warrior  dead. 
Whether  the  round  towers  which  are  still  the  wonder 
of  many  parts  of  Ireland  were  built  by  them  or  by  the 
early  Christians,  and  for  what  purpose,  is  still  a  sub- 
ject of  fierce  controversy  among  archaeologists.  Dio- 
dorus  Siculus  would  seem  to  refer  to  them  in  a  passage 
in  which  he  speaks  of  an  island  of  the  size  of  Sicily,  in 
the  ocean  over  against  Gaul,  to  the  north,  whose  peo- 
ple were  said  to  have  a  great  affection  for  the  Greeks 
from  old  times,  and  to  build  curious  temples  of  round 
form.  Whether  they  built  the  round  towers  or  no,  the 
early  Irish  were  skilled  in  the  working  of  gold  orna- 
ments, and  in  the  manufacture  of  primitive  weapons. 
They  seem  to  have  known  the  art  of  writing  early, 
and  to  have  had  a  strange  alphabet  of  their  own,  called 
Ogham,  from  a  shadowy  King  Oghma,  who  was  sup- 
posed to  have  invented  it.  It  was  written  by  cutting 
notches  in  wood  and  stone,  and  there  has  been  no  small 
discussion  over  the  reading  of  it. 

Authentic  history  begins  with  St.  Patrick.  Patrick 
had  been  carried  as  a  slave  from  Gaul  to  Erin  in  his 
youth.  He  escaped  to  Rome  and  rose  high  in  the 
Christian  Church.     But  his  heart  was  stirred  with  pity 


196  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

for  his  land  of  bondage,  and  about  432  he  returned  to 
Ireland,  inspired  by  the  hope  of  converting  the  coun- 
try. He  was  not  the  first.  Palladius  had  tried  to  con- 
vert pagan  lerne  already,  but  where  Palladius  failed, 
Patrick  succeeded  ;  and  the  complete  conversion  of 
Ireland  is  one  of  the  most  splendid  triumpl]^  of  the 
early  Church.  Wherever  the  saint  went,  conviction 
and  conversion  followed.  He  had  dreamed  a  strange 
dream  while  in  Rome,  in  which  an  angel  appeared  to 
him,  bearing  a  scroll,  with  the  superscription,  "The 
voice  of  the  Irish."  The  voice  of  the  Irish  had  called 
him,  and  the  ears  of  the  Irish  w^ere  ready  to  accept  his 
teaching :  king  after  king,  chieftain  after  chieftain, 
abandoned  the  worship  of  their  ancient  gods  to  become 
the  servants  of  Christ.  For  more  than  sixty  years 
Patrick  wrestled  with  the  old  gods  in  Ireland  and  over- 
threw them.  He  had  found  Ireland  pagan,  but  when 
he  died  and  gave 

"  His  body  to  that  pleasant  country's  earth, 
And  his  pure  soul  unto  his  captain  Christ, 
Under  whose  coloi-s  he  had  fought  so  long," 

the  spirit  of  Christianity  was  over  the  island,  and  the 
powder  of  the  old  gods  was  gone  forever.  He  was 
buried  in  Saul,  in  the  County  of  Down,  but  his  spirit 
lived  in  the  souls  of  his  followers.  Long  after  Patrick 
had  been  laid  to  rest,  his  disciples  carried  the  cross  of 
Christ  to  the  gaunt  Scottish  highlands,  the  lonely  Ger- 
man pine-forests,  the  savage  Gaulish  settlements,  to 
Britain,  and  the  wild  islands  of  the  northern  seas.  The 
Irish  monks  wandered  into  the  waste  places  of  Ireland, 
and  noble  monasteries — the  homes  of  religion  and  of 
learning — sprang  up  wherever  they  set  their  feet.  The 
fathers  of  the  Irish  Church  were  listened  to  with  rever- 
ence in  the  court  of  Charlemagne  and  in  the  Roman 
basilicas ;  and  foreign  ecclesiastics  eagerly  visited  the 
homes  of  these  men — the  monasteries  famous  for  their 
learning,  their  libraries,  and  their  secure  peace. 

The  island  of  the  Sun-god  had  become  the  island  of 
Saints.  To  Ireland  belong  St.  Columban,  the  re- 
former of  the  Gauls  ;  St.  Columbkill,  the  ''  Dove  of 
the   Cell,"  whose  name  has  made  lona  holy  ground  ; 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  197 

St.  Foelan  ;  St.  Killian,  the  apostle  of  Franconia  ;  St. 
Aidan  ;  St.  Gall,  the  converter  of  Helvetia ;  and  St. 
Boniface.  One  hundred  and  fifty-five  Irish  saints  are 
venerated  in  the  churches  of  Germany,  forty-five  in 
Gaul,  thirty  in  Belgium,  thirteen  in  Italy,  and  eight  in 
Scandinavia.  For  a  long  time  all  Christendom  looked 
upon  Ireland  as  the  favorite  home  of  religion  and  of 
wisdom.  Montalembert,  in  his  great  history  of  "  The 
Monks  of  the  West,"  has  given  a  glowing  account  of  the 
civilization  and  the  culture  of  the  Irish  monasteries. 
There  the  arts  were  practised — music,  architecture,  and 
the  working  of  metals.  There  the  languages  of  Greece 
and  Rome  were  studied  with  the  passionate  zeal  which 
afterwards  distinguished  the  Humanistic  scholars  of  the 
revival  of  learning.  The  Irish  monastic  scholars  carried 
their  love  for  Greek  so  far  that  they  even  wrote  the 
Latin  of  the  Church  books  in  the  beloved  Hellenic 
characters — and  as  we  read  we  are  reminded  again  of 
the  old  tradition  of  Greek  descent — while,  curiously 
enough,  one  of  the  oldest  manuscripts  of  Horace  in  ex- 
istence, that  in  the  library  of  Berne,  is  written  in  Celtic 
characters,  with  notes  and  commentaries  in  the  Irish 
language.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  Montalembert 
says,  that  of  all  nations  the  Anglo-Saxons  derived  most 
profit  from  the  teaching  of  the  Irish  schools,  and  that 
Alfred  of  England  received  his  education  in  an  Irish 
university. 

With  the  lapse  of  time,  however,  and  the  disorders 
that  came  over  the  country  during  the  struggles  with 
the  Danes,  the  organization  of  the  Church  suffered  se- 
verely. In  the  twelfth  century  the  irregularities  that 
had  crept  into  the  Irish  Church  were  brought  before 
the  notice  of  the  Roman  court.  A  synod,  held  at  Kells, 
A.D.  1 152,  under  the  papal  legate  Paparo,  formally  in- 
corporated the  Irish  Church  into  the  ecclesiastical  sys- 
tem of  Rome.  The  metropolitan  sees  of  Armagh,  Cashel, 
Dublin,  and  Tuam  were  created,  with  their  suffragan 
sees,  under  the  primacy  of  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  eighth  century  the  Danes 
made  their  first  descent  upon  Ireland,  and  for  a  time 
established  themselves  in  the  country,  expending  their 
fiercest  fury  upon  the  Church  of  the  West,  and  driving 
ihe  Irish  scholars  to  carry  their  culture  and  their  phi- 


198  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

losophy  to  the  great  cities  of  the  European  continent. 
The  Irish  chiefs,  divided  among  themselves,  were  un- 
able to  oppose  a  common  front  to  the  enemy,  and  for 
more  than  a  century  the  sea-kings  held  Ireland  in  sub- 
jection. At  length  a  man  arose  who  was  more  than  a 
match  for  the  sea-kings.  Brian  Boroihme,  brother  of 
the  King  of  Munster,  raised  an  army  against  the  Danes 
in  968,  thoroughly  defeated  them,  and  reduced  them  to 
the  condition  of  quiet  dwellers  in  the  seaport  towns. 
But  the  master-spirit  that  the  troublous  time  had  con- 
jured up  was  not  content  to  remain  the  conqueror  of 
the  Danes  alone.  He  was  determined  to  become  the 
sovereign  of  all  Ireland.  It  was  sheer  usurpation,  and 
many  of  the  Irish  chiefs  opposed  Brian  ;  but  he  soon 
overcame  their  resistance,  and  in  looi  he  was  acknowl- 
edged as  King  of  all  Ireland.  He  made  a  just  and  wise 
king,  and  for  twelve  years  reigned  in  triumph  and  in 
peace.  Then  the  Danes  in  Ireland  began  to  pluck  up 
heart  again.  They  sent  for  help  to  their  kinsmen  over 
sea,  and  the  Vikings  came  across  the  Swan's  Bath  with 
a  mighty  fleet,  and  made  war  upon  Brian.  Brian  was 
an  old  man  now,  but  as  fierce  and  brave  and  skilful  as 
ever.  He  raised  up  all  his  power  to  meet  the  Danes, 
and  completely  defeated  them  after  a  bloody  struggle, 
at  Clontarf,  on  Good  Friday,  1014.  Their  bravest  chiefs 
were  slain,  and  their  spirits  sent  to  the  Hall  of  Odin  to 
drink  ale  with  the  goddesses  of  death,  while  all  the 
hawks  of  heaven  mourned  for  them.  But  the  victori- 
ous Irish  had  to  bewail  their  king,  who,  owing  to  the 
negligence  of  his  guards,  was  killed  in  his  tent  towards 
the  end  of  the  fight  by  the  Danish  leader.  This  great 
defeat  of  the  Danes  put  an  end  to  any  further  dreams 
of  a  Danish  invasion  of  Ireland,  though  it  did  not  by 
any  means  destroy  the  influence  that  the  Danes  had  al- 
ready acquired  in  the  island.  They  still  held  their  own 
in  the  great  seaport  towns,  and  carried  on  fierce  feuds 
with  the  native  tribes,  and  in  the  slow  processes  of  time 
became  absorbed  into  and  united  with  them.  The  death 
of  Brian  had  a  disastrous  effect  upon  the  condition  of 
Ireland.  The  provinces  that  he  had  subjugated  reas- 
serted their  independence  ;  but  his  usurpation  had 
shattered  the  supremacy  of  the  old  royal  race,  and  the 
history  of  Ireland  until  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  cen- 


AN    OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  199 

tury  is  merely  a  melancholy  succession  of  civil  wars  and 
struggles  for  the  crown,  upon  which  it  would  be  alike 
painful  and  profitless  to  dwell. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    NORMAN    CONQUEST. 


Ireland  was  now  divided  into  four  confederations  oi 
tribes.  The  O'Neils  held  Ulidia,  which  is  now  called 
Ulster ;  the  O'Connors  Conacia,  or  Connaught ;  the 
O'Briens  and  the  McCarthys  Mononia,  or  Munster ; 
and  the  Macmurroughs  Lagenia,  or  Leinster — all  under 
the  paramount  but  often-disputed  rule  of  a  branch  of 
the  Ulster  O'Neils.  The  royal  demense  of  Meath,  the 
appanage  of  the  Ulster  family,  which  included  West- 
meath,  Longford,  and  a  part  of  King's  County,  w^as 
sometimes  counted  a  fifth  kingdom. 

In  the  wild  north,  O'Neil,  O'Donnel,  O'Kane, 
O'Hara,  O'Sheel,  O'Carrol,  were  mighty  names.  On 
the  northernmost  peninsula,  where  the  Atlantic  runs 
into  Lough  Foyle  and  Lough  Swilly,  O'Dogherty 
reigned  supreme.  In  Connaught,  O'Rourke,  O'Reilly, 
O'Kelly,  O'Flaherty,  O'Malley,  O'Dowd,  were  lords. 
In  Meath  and  Leinster,  MacGeogeghan,  O'Farrell,  O'- 
Connor, O'Moore,  O'Brennan,  Macmurrough  ruled. 
In  Munster,  by  the  western  shore,  MacCarthy  More 
held  sway.  MacCarthy  Reagh  swayed  the  south,  by 
the  pleasant  waters  of  Cork  Bay.  O' Sullivan  Beare 
was  lord  of  the  fair  promontory  between  Bantry  Bay 
and  Kenmare  River.  O'Mahony  reigned  by  roaring 
Water  Bay.  O'Donoghue  was  chieftain  by  the  haunted 
Killarney  Lakes.  MacMahon  ruled  north  of  the  Shan- 
non.    O'Loglin  looked  on  Galw^ay  Bay. 

All  Ireland,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  seaport 
towns  where  the  Danes  had  settled,  was  in  the  hands 
of  Irish  chiefs  of  old  descent  and  famous  lineage. 
They  quarrelled  among  themselves  as  readily  and  as 
fiercely  as   if  they  had   been   the   heads  of   so  many 


200  AN-  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Greek    States.     The  Danes  had   been  their  Persians; 
their  Romans  were  now  to  come. 

The  whole  story  of  Irish  subjugation  and  its  seven 
centuries  of  successive  struggles  begins  with  the  carry- 
ing-off  of  Devorgilla,  wife  of  Tiernan  O'Rorke,  of 
Brefny,  by  a  dissolute,  brutal  giant  some  sixty  years 
old — Dermot  Macmurrough,  King  of  Leinster.  We 
have  a  curious  picture  of  him  preserved  in  the  writings 
of  Giraldus  Cambrensis,  who  knew  him,  and  who  was 
the  first  historian  of  the  Irish  invasion.  "  Dermot  was 
a  man  of  tall  stature  and  great  body  ;  a  valiant  and 
bold  warrior  in  his  nation.  By  constant  halloaing  and 
crying  out  his  voice  ha,d  become  hoarse.  He  chose  to 
be  feared  rather  than  loved  ;  oppressed  his  nobility 
greatly,  but  greatly  supported  and  advanced  the  poor 
and  weak.  To  his  own  kindred  he  was  rough  and 
grievous,  and  hateful  to  strangers  ;  he  would  be 
against  all  men,  and  all  men  were  against  him."  Such 
was  the  man  who  found  the  fair  wife  of  the  Lord  of 
Brefny  a  willing  victim.  Alexander  the  Great  was 
pleased  to  fancy  that  in  ravaging  the  countries  of  the 
Great  King  he  was  still  avenging  the  ancient  quarrel 
for  the  rape  of  Helen.  But  Helen  was  not  more  fa- 
tal to  Greeks  and  Easterns  than  Devorgilla,  Erin's 
Helen,  proved  to  the  neighboring  islands  that  lie  along 
the  Irish  Sea.  Through  ages  of  bloodshed  and  slaugh- 
ter her  country  has  indeed  bled  for  her  shame.  There 
is  a  grim  ironic  mockery  in  the  thought  that  two 
nations  have  been  set  for  centuries  in  the  bitterest 
hatred  by  the  loves  of  a  lustful  savage  and  an  unfaith^ 
ful  wife.  One  might  well  paraphrase  the  words  of 
Shakespeare's  Diomed  in  "Troilus  and  Cressida,"  and 
say  that  "  for  every  false  drop  in  her  bawdy  veins  an 
English  life  hath  sunk  ;  for  every  scruple  of  her  con- 
taminated carrion  weight  an  Irishman  been  slain.'* 
The  Lord  of  Brefny  made  war  upon  his  betrayer  ;  Rory 
O'Connor,  the  last  king  of  Ireland,  espoused  O'Rorke's 
cause,  and  Dermot  fled  the  country.  He  hastened  to 
Aquitaine,  where  Henry  II.  was  then  staying,  and  did 
him  homage.  Pope  Adrian  IV.,  known  to  England  as 
Nicholas  Breakspere,  the  only  Englishman  who  ever 
sat  in  the  seat  of  St.  Peter,  had  given  Henry  II.  a  bull 
of  authority  over  Ireland  some  years  before,  authority 


AN   OUTLmE    OF   IRISH  HISTORY,  201 

which  Henry  had  not  yet  seen  fit  to  exercise.  Der- 
mot's  quarrel  was  Henry's  opportunity.  He  allowed 
the  treacherous  fugitive  to  shark  up  a  list  of  lawless 
resolutes  from  among  the  Norman  barons  in  Wales, 
headed  by  Richard  de  Clare,  Earl  Pembroke,  called 
"Strongbow."  Ireland  was  invaded,  Wexford  seized, 
Waterford  taken  and  sacked,  and  Eva,  Dermot's  daugh- 
ter, married  to  Strongbow,  as  a  further  bond  between 
the  lord  of  Leinster  and  the  Norman  adventurer.  The 
superiority  of  the  Norman  arms  and  armor  impressed 
the  Irish  chiefs  and  soldiery  as  the  iron  of  Charle- 
magne's legions  impressed  the  Huns.  The  Normans 
made  a  brave  show,  lapped  in  steel,  w^ith  their  pointed 
helms  and  shields,  their  surcoats  gleaming  with  the  or 
and  argent,  gules  and  azure  of  their  heraldic  bearings, 
their  powerful  weapons,  and  their  huge  war-horses. 
Beneath  their  floating  pennons  came  their  well-trained, 
well-armed  soldiers,  skilled  to  shoot  v/ith  long-bow  and 
cross-bow,  well  supplied  with  all  the  implements  fit  for 
the  taking  of  cities  that  Roman  ingenuity  had  devised 
and  Norman  craft  perfected.  The  Irish  galloglasses 
and  kerns  opposed  to  them,  if  not  wholly  unfamiliar 
with  the  use  of  mail,  seldom,  indeed,  used  it,  and 
fought  their  fiercest,  protected  alone  by  the  shirts  of 
saffron-dye  in  which  they  delighted,  while  their  weap- 
ons were  in  every  respect  inferior  to  those  of  the  in- 
vaders. Naturally,  the  Normans  w^ere  at  first  triumph- 
ant everywhere.  They  swarmed  over  the  country, 
pushing  their  strange  names  and  strange  ways  into  the 
homes  of  the  time-honored  septs.  De  Burgo  in  Con- 
naught,  FitzMaurice  and  FitzGerald  in  Kerry,  in  the 
land  of  the  MacCarthy  More  ;  De  Cogan,  FitzStephen, 
and  De  la  Poer  along  the  southern  coast ;  De  Lacy  in 
the  north  ;  all  the  cloud  of  De  Grandisons,  and  De 
Montmorencies,  and  De  Courcies,  and  Mandevilles, 
and  FitzEustaces,  who  settled  along  the  eastern  coasts, 
and  pushed  their  way  inland — these  were  to  be  the  new 
masters  of  men  whose  hearts  were  given  in  allegiance 
to  the  lords  of  the  O  and  of  the  Mac. 

But  though  the  first  flush  of  victory  rested  with  the 
Normans,  their  liold  over  the  country  was  for  some 
time  uncertain.  Dermot,  whose  alliance  was  of  great 
importance  to  the  invaders,  died  suddenly  a  loathsome 


202  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

death.  Henry  seemed  little  inclined  to  lend  his 
strength  to  the  bold  barons,  whose  successes  made  him 
jealous  for  his  own  authority  over  the  island.  He  even 
ordered  Strongbow  to  leave  Ireland,  a  command  that 
it  was  difficult  to  obey,  for  the  Irish  had  plucked  up 
heart  of  grace  to  turn  upon  their  invaders,  and  were 
harassing  them  very  effectually.  They  were  rein- 
forced, too,  by  their  old  enemies  the  Danes,  whose 
seaport  settlements  the  Normans  had  seized  upon  with 
scant  courtesy,  and  between  the  two  the  adventurers 
were  in  a  bad  way.  Strongbow  took  the  opportunity 
of  a  momentary  triumph  of  the  Norman  arms  to  return 
to  England  and  make  his  peace  with  his  jealous  mon- 
arch. Henry  pardoned  him  his  delayed  submission, 
and  immediately  secured  the  Norman  grasp  on  Ireland 
by  leading  a  large  army  across  the  Irish  Sea  on  a 
"  Veni,  vidi,  vici "  visit,  as  Sir  John  Davies  called  it, 
writing  of  it  some  centuries  later. 

The  armament  overawed  many  of  the  Irish  chieftains, 
who  seem  to  have  thought  resistance  to  the  master  of 
such  legions  vain,  and  most  of  the  Munster  chieftains 
came  in  and  swore  allegiance.  Rory  O'Connoj  held 
out  against  the  king  ;  so  did  the  Ulster  chiefs  ;  but 
Henry,  content  with  what  he  gained,  for  the  time  let 
them  alone,  and  proceeded  to  organize  his  new  terri- 
tory. He  divided  it  into  counties,  and  set  up  the  royal 
law  courts  of  Bench,  Pleas,  and  Exchequer  in  Dublin, 
to  afford  the  Norman  settlers  the  privileges  of  English 
law.  The  natives  were  allowed  to  keep  to  their  old 
Brehon  laws,  which  dated  from  the  earliest  times,  and 
were  as  unlike  the  English  processes  of  jurisprudence 
as  the  Irish  land  system  was  unlike  the  feudal  system 
now  introduced. 

Henry's  stay  in  Ireland  was  abruptly  cut  short  by  a 
summons  to  appear  before  the  papal  legates  in  Nor- 
mandy who  were  inquiring  into  the  murder  of  Becket. 
He  left  the  island  never  to  come  back  to  it  again.  But 
he  had  done  much  to  Normanize  the  country  by  mak- 
ing large  and  wholly  illegal  grants  of  septal  territory  to 
his  followers,  leaving  it  to  them  to  win  and  keep  these 
gifts  as  best  they  could.  With  the  sword  the  barons 
advanced  their  claims,  and  with  the  sword  the  Irish 
chieftains  met  them. 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  203 

The  story  of  Ireland  from  the  first  to  the  second 
Richard  is  one  monotonous  record  of  constant  warfare 
between  the  Irish  and  the  Normans,  and  of  incessant 
strife  between  the  rival  Irish  houses.  The  barons  built 
great  castles,  and  lived  in  them  a  life  of  rough  self-reli- 
ance, very  like  that  of  the  robber  lords  of  the  Rhine 
provinces  in  later  centuries.  Many  of  these  domains 
were  counties  palatinate,  that  is  to  say,  their  lords  had 
the  privilege  of  making  their  own  laws  with  very  little 
regard  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  crown,  and  with  abso- 
lute power  of  life  and  death.  They  ruled  the  tenants 
accordingly,  with  a  queer  mixture  of  Brehon  and  Nor- 
man law,  after  their  own  fashion.  In  the  Norman 
towns,  which  were  gradually  established  in  the  country 
under  the  protection  of  some  one  or  other  of  the  great 
barons,  the  language  for  a  long  time  was  only  Norman- 
French,  and  the  customs  as  well.  It  was  as  if  some 
town  of  pleasant  Normandy  had  been  taken  bodily  up 
and  transported  to  Ireland,  with  its  well-wardered  ram- 
parts, on  which  the  citizens' wives  and  daughters  walked 
of  quiet  evenings  in  times  of  peace,  its  busy,  crowded 
streets,  thronged  with  citizens  of  all  trades  and  crafts, 
marching  sometimes  gayly  in  their  guilds,  and  ready  at 
all  times  to  drop  awl  or  hammer,  net  or  knife,  and  rush 
to  arms  to  attack  or  to  repel  the  Irish  enemy.  For  out- 
side the  ramparts  of  these  Norman  towns  on  Irish  earth, 
outside  the  last  bastion  of  the  baron's  stronghold,  lay 
the  Irish,  a  separate  and  a  hostile  nation,  ever  attacked, 
and  ever  ready  to  attack.  The  return  of  the  swallow 
was  not  surer  in  summer  than  the  renewed  outbreak  of 
strife  between  Norman  baron  and  Irish  chief  when  once 
the  winter  had  faded  into  spring.  The  baron  took  to 
the  road  like  a  last-century  highwayman  :  he  swooped 
down  upon  the  fields  of  the  Irish  ;  he  seized  upon  the 
stores  that  they  had  placed  in  their  churches  and  church- 
yards, as  was  their  custom  before  they  took  to  building 
castles  themselves.  The  Irish  retaliated  whenever  and 
wherever  they  could.  For  long  there  was  no  sort  of 
alliance  between  them.  Only  those  who  belonged  to 
the  "  five  bloods  "  of  the  O'Neils  of  Ulster,  the  O'Con- 
nors of  Connaught,  the  O'Briens  of  Thomond,  the 
O'Melachlins  of  Meath,  and  the  Macmurroughs  of  Lein- 
ster,  could  have  audience  in  an  English  court.    The  kill- 


204  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRIS  If  HISTORY. 

ing  of  an  Irishman  or  the  violation  of  an  Irishwoman 
by  an  English  colonist  was  no  crime. 

Yet,  with  the  slow  advance  of  time  the  Norman  set- 
tlers began  to  succumb  to  Irish  influences.  The  hos- 
tilities lessened,  the  hatreds  waned.  The  Norman  bar- 
ons began  to  find  peace  better  than  war,  and  love  fairer 
than  feud.  They  took  to  themselves  wives  from  among 
the  daughters  of  the  Irish  chiefs.  By  degrees  they 
abandoned  their  knightly  trappings,  their  Norman 
names,  and  their  foreign  speech,  to  adopt  instead  the 
Irish  dress,  names,  language,  and  law.  A  Burke  be- 
came a  M' William,  a  FitzMaurice  became  a  M'Morice,. 
and  a  Bermingham  became  a  M '  Yoris.  The  transformed 
barons  aspired  to  be  independent  Irish  chieftains  like 
their  new  allies  ;  in  time  they  came  to  be  known  as 
"more  Irish  than  the  Irish  themselves." 

The  English  government  witnessed  with  jealous  anger 
this  curious  process  of  assimilation,  and  strove  at  inter- 
vals to  stay  its  course.  A  statute  passed  in  1295  pro- 
hibited in  vain  the  adoption  of  the  Irish  garb  by  Nor- 
man settlers.  The  English  had  not  the  power  to  enforce 
such  restrictive  law^s  ;  they  had  not  even  the  strength  to 
protect  such  of  the  settlers  as  were  willing  to  abide  by 
their  own  Norman  ways  and  words.  These  were  forced 
in  self-defence  into  association  and  alliance  with  the 
Irish  chiefs,  who  were  gradually  regaining  their  control 
over  the  country. 

After  the  English  defeat  at  Bannockburn,  the  Irish 
chiefs  at  once  rose  in  revolt  against  England.  Edward 
Bruce,  brother  of  the  victorious  Scottish  king,  came 
OA^er  to  Ireland  in  1315,  and  was  heartily  welcomed, 
not  by  the  native  Irish  alone,  but  by  many  of  the 
Anglo-Irish  nobles.  Edward  Bruce  was  crowmed  as 
king  at  Dundalk,  and  for  a  short  time  the  insurrection 
carried  all  before  it,  and  the  Anglo-Irish  lords  who  had 
not  joined  the  rebellion  were  put  to  great  straits  to  de- 
fend themselves.  The  English  government  made  a 
desperate  effort,  raised  a  large  army  under  Sir  John  de 
Bermingham,  which  completely  defeated  the  allied 
Scotch,  Irish,  and  Anglo-Irish  forces  in  a  battle  near 
Dundalk,  in  which  Edward  Bruce  himself  was  killed. 
But  the  victory  was  dearly  bought.  The  loyal  Anglo- 
Irish   had   learned  to  their  cost   that   they  could  not 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  205 

count  for  safety  on  the  protection  of  the  home  govern- 
ment, and  that  security  was  more  easily  attained  by 
amalgamation  with  the  Irish.  The  Irishizing  process 
went  on  more  vigorously  than  ever.  The  conversion 
of  Norman  barons  into  Irish  chiefs  with  Irish  names 
waxed  day  by  day.  The  condition  of  the  English  set- 
tlers who  remained  unchanged  in  the  midst  of  such 
changes  became  desperate  indeed. 

Something  had  to  be  done.  In  1356  it  was  pro- 
claimed that  no  one  born  in  Ireland  should  hold  any 
of  the  king's  towns  or  castles.  This  proved  ineffectual, 
and  sterner  measures  were  resorted  to  eleven  years 
later,  at  the  Parliament  held  in  Kilkenny,  in  1367.  The 
Norman  Parliament  in  Ireland  was  originally  a  council 
of  the  barons,  prelates,  and  the  "  faithful ;"  but  it  had 
grown  with  time  into  greater  importance.  The  Upper 
House  consisted  of  lay  peers,  abbots,  priors,  and 
bishops  ;  the  Lower  House  of  the  knights  of  the  shires 
and  burgesses.  Many  of  the  lay  peers  claimed  and 
received  exemption  from  attendance,  and  the  abbots, 
priors,  and  bishops  generally  sent  their  proctors  in 
their  places,  till  the  practice  grew  up  of  summoning 
two  proctors  from  each  diocese,  who  sat  with  the 
knights  and  burgesses  in  the  Lower  House,  and  claimed 
to  be  members  of  the  legislature.  Most  of  the  shires 
were  in  the  hands  of  the  Irish,  and  returned  no  mem- 
bers. Burgesses  were  summoned  from  a  few  towns, 
many  not  being  elected  by  the  freemen  of  the  city,  but 
receiving  the  royal  writ  personally,  by  name.  It  met 
at  irregular  intervals,  sometimes  at  Dublin,  sometimes 
at  Kilkenny,  and  sometimes  at  Drogheda,  at  the  sum- 
mons of  the  king's  lieutenant,  or  his  deputy. 

The  Parliameilt  of  Kilkenny  inflicted  heavy  penalties 
on  all  English  who  adopted  Irish  names,  speech,  or 
customs.  The  Norman  who  dared  to  marry  an  Irish 
wife  was  to  be  half-hanged,  shamefully  mutilated,  dis- 
embowelled alive,  and  forfeit  his  estate.  The  fostering 
of  Norman  with  Irish  children,  and  the  maintenance  of 
Irish  bards,  were  alike  sternly  prohibited.  But  at  the 
time  the  English  Government  had  not  the  power  to 
enforce  these  statutes,  which  only  served  to  further 
exasperate  the  Irish  and  the  Anglo-Irish. 

Richard  II.  was  in  Ireland  with  a  large  army,  deter- 


306  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

mined  to  reduce  the  country  to  obedience,  when  the 
news  of  Bolingbroke's  landing  at  Ravenspurgh  called 
him  back  to  his  death.  The  struggles  of  the  Houses 
of  the  White  and  the  Red  Rose  occupied  Ireland  as 
well  as  England.  Anglo-Irish  lords  crossed  the  sea  to 
fight  for  York  and  Lancaster  by  the  side  of  the  King- 
maker or  Clifford  of  Cumberland.  In  Ireland  the  two 
greatest  houses  took  opposite  sides.  The  Butlers  of 
East  Munster,  the  Lords  of  Ormonde,  who  swayed 
Tipperary  and  Kilkenny,  plucked  a  sanguine  rose  with 
young  Somerset ;  while  the  Geraldines  of  both  the 
Desmond  and  Kildare  branches  loved  no  colors,  and 
cropped  a  pale  and  angry  rose  with  Plantagenet. 

The  story  of  the  House  of  Geraldine  is  one  of  the 
most  romantic  in  all  Irish  history.  The  Geraldines 
were  descended  from  the  two  brothers,  Maurice  and 
William  Fitzgerald,  who  came  to  Ireland  at  the  heels 
of  Strongbow.  Through  varying  fortunes — at  one 
time  the  whole  house  was  nearly  exterminated  by 
MacCarthy  More — they  had  risen  to  a  proud  position 
of  rule  in  Ireland.  They  owned  all  the  broad  lands 
from  Maynooth  to  Lixnaw  ;  their  followers  swarmed 
everywhere,  bearing  a  '*G"on  their  breast  in  token 
that  they  owed  their  hearts  to  the  Geraldines. 

Moore  has  made  famous  the  story  of  Thomas,  the 
sixth  earl,  who,  '*by  the  Fial's  wave  benighted,  no  star 
in  the  sky,"  was  lighted  by  love  to  the  door  of  a  re- 
tainer's cottage.  The  poet  fancies  that  as  the  chieftain 
crossed  the  threshold,  some  ominous  voice  whispered 
that  there  was  ruin  before  him.  If  he  loved  he  was 
lost.  Love  and  ruin  did,  indeed,  await  the  Geraldine 
across  the  threshold.  The  retainer  had  a  beautiful 
daughter,  and  "love  came  and  brought  sorrow  too 
soon  in  his  train  "  for  Thomas  of  Kildare.  He  married 
the  peasant  girl,  and  was  outlawed  by  his  stately  fam- 
ily, and  went  to  France  with  his  humble  love,  and 
died,  a  poor  but  a  happy  man,  at  Rouen,  many  years 
later. 

After  Bosworth  battle  had  placed  Henry  VII.  on  the 
throne  of  Richard  of  Gloucester,  the  new  king  was  too 
busy  with  his  new  kingdom  to  give  much  thought  to 
Ireland.  The  English  colony  was  in  a  bad  way  there. 
It  was  reduced  to  the  County  of  Dublin  and  parts  of 


AN  OUTLINE    OF   IRISH  HISTORY.  207 

Meath,  Louth,  and  Kildare.  The  greater  part  of  the 
island  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  Irish  chieftains,  who 
exacted  tribute  from  the  English,  and  scornfully  set  at 
naught  the  continued  and  meaningless  renewals  of  the 
statutes  of  Kilkenny.  Henry  at  first  left  Ireland  alone. 
He  was  ever  content  to  leave  the  Geraldine  control  of 
the  country  unquestioned,  although  the  Geraldines  had 
been  so  defiantly  Yorkist,  and  though  not  a  few  follow- 
ers of  the  house  had  painted  their  own  white  roses  red 
with  their  own  blood  on  many  an  English  field.  They 
were  Yorkists  still.  When  Lambert  Simnel  came  over 
to  Ireland,  pretending  to  be  the  son  of  false,  fleeting, 
perjured  Clarence,  the  Geraldines  rallied  round  him 
with  warm  support  and  sympathy.  When  this  image 
of  a  king  was  swept  from  the  throne  to  the  kitchen, 
Perkin  Warbeck  took  his  place,  claimed  to  be  the 
Duke  of  York  whom  Gloucester  had  murdered  in  the 
tower,  and  he,  too,  found  Geraldine  aid  and  mainte- 
nance. Henry  had  now  learned  something  of  the 
strength  of  Irish  disaffection  in  the  hands  of  the  Irish 
chiefs,  and  prepared  to  crush  it  out  more  subtly  than  by 
the  sword.  We  have  seen  what  the  Irish  Parliament  was 
like  :  a  poor  thing  enough  in  itself,  but  at  worst  con- 
taining the  principles  of  a  representative  system.  This 
system  Henry  resolved  to  destroy.  Three  centuries  had 
passed  since  the  Norman  banners  had  first  floated  over 
the  Irish  fields,  and  in  all  that  time  no  attempt  had  been 
made  to  force  the  English  laws  upon  the  Irish  septs,  or 
to  interfere  w^ith  the  self-government  of  the  Norman 
settlers.  Now,  in  1494,  Henry  sent  over  Sir  Edward 
Poynings,  as  Lord  Deputy,  with  an  army  at  his  back, 
to  change  altogether  the  relationship  between  the  two 
islands.  Poynings  summoned  a  Parliament  at  Drog- 
heda,  at  which  the  famous  measure  known  as  Poyn- 
ing's  Act  was  passed.  This  act  established  that  all 
English  laws  should  operate  in  Ireland,  and  that  the 
consent  of  the  Privy  Council  of  England  was  necessary 
for  all  acts  of  the  Irish  Parliament.  These  measures 
at  once  deprived  Ireland  of  all  claim  to  independent 
government.  Henceforward  she  was  to  be  the  helpless 
dependent  of  the  conquering  country.  But  the  loss  of 
liberty  did  not  destroy  the  Irish  desire  for  freedom  ;  it 
rather  gave  it  an  additional  incentive  to  action. 


208  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Ireland  being  thus  soldered  close  to  England,  Henry- 
was  content  to  leave  the  government  of  the  country  in 
the  hands  of  its  most  powerful  man.  "  All  Ireland," 
men  said,  ''was  not  a  match  for  the  Earl  of  Kildare." 
"Then  let  the  Earl  of  Kildare  govern  all  Ireland,"  said 
Henry  VII.,  and  gave  the  rule  of  Ireland  into  his 
hands.  He  had  been  the  most  potent  spirit  in  Ireland 
under  the  old  system  ;  to  confirm  his  power  under  the 
new  seemed  to  the  astute  Henry  the  surest  means  of 
securing  his  allegiance  and  the  quiet  dependence  of 
Ireland. 

His  successor,  the  eighth  Henry,  looked  on  the  Ger- 
aldine  power  with  grave  jealousy.  The  control  of  the 
island  was  practically  in  the  hands  of  the  Earls  of  Kil- 
dare and  their  follow^ers,  and  was  drifting  day  by  day 
further  from  the  control  and  supremacy  of  England. 
What  use  were  statutes  of  Kilkenny  and  Poyning's 
Acts  if  the  country  was  under  the  command  of  an  An- 
glo-Irish house  who  defied  the  authotity  of  England  ? 
His  jealousy  of  the  Geraldines  was  fostered  by  Wol- 
sey,  who  Vv^as  considerably  under  the  influence  of  the 
House  of  Ormonde,  the  bitter  enemies  of  the  Geral- 
dines. Gerald,  the  ninth  earl,  son  of  Henry  VII.'s 
deputy,  was  summoned  to  England.  He  was  at  once 
thrown  into  the  Tower,  and  false  news  of  his  execution 
was  sent  to  Dublin.  His  son,  Lord  Thomas  Fitzger- 
ald, "Silken  Thomas,"  as  he  was  commonly  called  by 
his  people,  from  the  splendor  of  his  dress,  displayed 
no  silken  spirit.  He  raised  at  once  a  desperate  revolt 
against  the  king,  but  his  forces  were  shattered  by  the 
English  artillery,  brought  thus  into  Irish  warfare  for 
the  first  time.  He  and  his  five  uncles  were  compelled 
to  surrender.  They  were  sent  to  London,  to  the 
Tower,  where  the  Earl  of  Kildare  had  died  of  a  broken 
heart,  and  they  were  all  hanged  at  Tyburn.  Only  one 
of  their  kin,  a  boy  of  twelve,  a  son  of  the  Earl  of  Kil- 
dare by  his  second  wife,  escaped  from  the  slaughter  of 
his  race  to  Rome,  to  found  again  the  fortunes  of  his 
house.  "The  dying  Gracchus,"  said  Mirabeau,  "flung 
dust  to  heaven,  and  from  that  dust  sprang  Marius." 
From  the  blood  of  the  Geraldines  arose  the  great 
house  of  Desmond  and  Tyrone,  which  at  one  time 
seemed  likely  to  establish  the  independence  of  Ireland. 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  209 

Henry's  next  act  was  to  confiscate  the  Church  lands 
in  Ireland  as  he  had  done  in  England.  How  this  was 
done  we  may  learn  in  the  melancholy  words  of  the 
Four  Masters:  "They  broke  down  the  monasteries, 
and  sold  their  roofs  and  bells  from  Arran  of  the 
Saints  to  the  Iccian  Sea.  .  .  .  They  burned  the 
images,  shrines,  and  relics,  .  .  .  the  staff  of  Jesus, 
which  had  been  in  the  hand  of  St.  Patrick."  A  Par- 
liament was  summoned  at  Dublin,  at  which  for  the  first 
time  some  Irish  chieftains  were  to  be  seen  sitting  by 
the  English  lords  at  the  national  assembly.  These 
chiefs  agreed  to  hold  their  land  of  the  king  by  English 
law,  to  come  to  the  king's  court  for  justice,  to  attend 
Parliament,  to  send  their  sons  to  be  educated  at  the 
English  court,  and  to  renounce  the  authority  of  the 
Pope.  The  Parliament  conferred  on  Henry  and  his 
successors  the  title  of  King  instead  of  Lord  Para- 
mount of  Ireland. 

Under  Edward,  the  chiefs  who  dwelt  in  Leix,  Offaly, 
Fercal,  and  Ely,  in  the  central  plain  of  Ireland,  of 
whom  the  O'Moores  and  O'Connors  were  chief,  showed 
signs  of  revolt.  They  were  formidable  and  warlike, 
and  Henry  VIII.  had  thought  it  well  worth  his  while  to 
keep  them  quiet  by  subsidy.  With  the  news  of  his 
death  they  may  have  thought  that  an  opportunity  of 
some  kind  had  come  ;  but  whether  they  intended  rebel- 
lion or  not,  the  government  acted  on  the  assumption 
that  they  did,  and  crushed  them  before  they  had  time 
to  move,  captured  their  chiefs,  laid  waste  their  settle- 
ments, and  finally  confiscated  their  lands,  and  planted 
them  with  English  settlers.  The  dispossessed  Irish 
drove  the  settlers  out  after  nine  years  of  ceaseless  war- 
fare. Then  the  government  put  forth  its  strength,  shot 
down  the  obnoxious  natives  wherever  they  could  get  at 
them,  hunted  them  as  outlaws,  and  at  last  practically 
exterminated  them.  Mary  was  by  this  time  on  the 
throne.  A  part  of  Offaly,  Fercal,  and  Ely  was  con- 
verted into  King's  County  ;  Leix,  another  portion  of 
Offal,  and  Upper  Ossory,  became  Queen's  County.  In 
the  settlement  of  these  two  counties  we  may  see  the 
beginnings  of  those  plantation  schemes,  which  were  to 
be  carried  on,  on  so  large  a  scale,  by  the  succeeding 
English  rulers,  whether  Tudor,  Stuart,  or  Puritan, 


210  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ELIZABETH, 

The  Reformation  begun  under  Henry  VHI.  was  car- 
ried out  with  pitiless  determination  under  Edward  VI., 
and  was  met  by  the  Catholics  with  unflinching  opposi- 
tion. Under  Mary  there  was  a  period  of  respite,  but 
the  strife  was  renewed  with  greater  fierceness  in  the 
succeeding  reign.  As  authentic  Irish  history  begins 
with  St.  Patrick,  so  with  Elizabeth  modern  Irish  history 
may  be  said  to  begin.  The  principles  of  the  Reforma- 
cion  had  only  served  to  deepen  the  hostility,  already 
deep  enough,  between  the  Irish  chiefs  and  the  English 
crown.  It  had  also  served  to  unite  the  Catholic  Anglo- 
Irish  with  the  Catholic  native  Irish  as  they  had  never 
been  united  before.  The  English  Act  of  Uniformity 
had  not  yet  been  registered  by  a  Parliamenf.*  Eliza- 
beth, in  January,  1560,  summoned  a  carefully  chosen 
and  obedient  Parliament,  which  repealed  the  Catholic 
Acts  passed  by  Mary,  and  passed  the  Act  of  Uniform- 
ity, which  made  the  new  liturgy  compulsory.  Many 
of  the  bishops  accepted  the  situation  ;  those  who  refus- 
ed, and  were  within  Elizabeth's  power,  were  deprived  ; 
those  outside  the  Pale  and  its  power  trusted  in  their 
isolation  and  defied  the  new  measures.  The  seizures 
of  Henry  and  Edward  had  impoverished  the  Irish 
Church,  but  the  spirit  of  the  Church  was  unbroken. 
On  hillsides  and  by  hedges  the  mendicant  friars  still 
preached  the  faith  of  their  fathers  in  their  fathers'  na- 
tive tongue,  and  wherever  they  went  they  found  a  peo- 
ple eager  to  hear  and  to  honor  them,  resolute  to  oppose 
the  changes  that  came  in  the  name  of  Henry,  of  Ed- 
ward, and  of  Elizabeth  from  across  the  sea. 

At  her  accession,  Elizabeth  was  too  much  occupied 
with  foreign  complications  to  pay  much  heed  to  Ireland. 
Trouble  first  began  in  a  conflict  between  the  feudal 
laws  and  the  old  Irish  law  of  Tanistr}^  Con  O'Neil, 
Earl  of  Tyrone,  had  taken  his  title  from  Henry  VIII., 
subject  to  the   English  law  of  succession  ;  but  when 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  211 

Con  died,  the  clan  O'Neil,  disregarding  the  English 
principle  of  hereditary  succession,  chose  Shane  O'Neil, 
an  illegitimate  son  of  Con,  and  the  hero  of  his  sept,  to 
be  The  O'Neil.  Shane  O'Neil  at  once  put  himself  for- 
ward as  the  champion  of  Irish  liberty,  the  supporter  of 
the  Irish  right  to  rule  themselves  in  their  own  way  and 
pay  no  heed  to  England.  Under  the  pretence  of  gov- 
erning the  country,  Elizabeth  overran  it  with  a  soldiery 
who,  as  even  Mr.  Froude  acknowledges,  lived  almost 
universally  on  plunder,  and  were  litlle  better  than 
bandits.  The  time  was  an  appropriate  one  for  a  cham- 
pion of  Irish  rights.  Shane  O'Neil  boldly  stood  out 
as  sovereign  of  .Ulster,  and  pitted  himself  against  Eliz- 
abeth. She  tried  to  have  him  removed  by  assassination. 
When  this  failed  she  tried  to  temporize.  Shane  was  in- 
vited to  England,  where  the  courtly  gentlemen  who 
hovered  about  Elizabeth  stared  OA^er  their  spreading 
ruffs  in  wonder  at  Shane  the  Proud  and  his  wild  fol- 
lowers in  their  saffron-stained  shirts  and  rough  cloaks, 
with  great  battle-axes  in  their  hands.  They  sharpened 
their  wits  upon  his  haughty  bearing,  his  scornful 
speech,  and  his  strange  garb.  But  his  size  and  strength 
made  great  impression  on  the  queen,  and  for  the  mo- 
ment an  amicable  arrangement  seemed  to  be  arrived  at. 
For  many  years  there  had  been  a  steady  immigration 
of  Scots  from  Argyleshire  into  Antrim,  who  had  often 
served  Shane  O'Neil  as  mercenaries.  These  Scotch 
settlers  seem  to  have;,  been  regarded  with  dislike  by  the 
crown  ;  at  all  events,  it  was  part  of  the  compact  with 
Shane  that  he  should  reduce  them,  and  reduce  them  he 
did,  with  no  light  or  sparing  hand.  But  the  fierce 
King  of  Ulster  was  by  far  too  powerful  to  please  Eliz- 
abeth long.  Her  agents  induced  other  tribes  to  rise 
against  him.  Shane  fought  bravely  against  his  fate, 
but  he  was  defeated,  put  to  flight,  and  murdered  by  his 
enemies,  the  Scots  of  Antrim,  in  whose  strongholds  he 
madly  sought  refuge.  His  head  w^as  struck  off,  and 
sent  to  adorn  the  walls  of  Dublin  Castle.  His  lands 
were  declared  forfeit,  and  his  vassals  vassals  of  the 
crown.  English  soldiers  of  fortune  were  given  grants 
from  Shane's  escheated  territory,  but  when  they  at- 
tempted to  settle  they  were  killed  by  the  O'Neils. 
Others  came  in  their  place,  under  Walter  Devereux, 


'312  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Earl  of  Essex,  and  did  their  best  to  simplify  the  pro- 
cess of  colonization  by  exterminating  the  O'Neils,  men, 
women,  and  children,  wherever  they  could  be  got  at. 
After  two  years  of  struggle  Essex  was  compelled  to 
abandon  his  settlement.  But  other  colonizers  were 
not  disheartened.  Some  West  of  England  gentlemen 
under  Peter  Carew,  seized  on  Cork,  Limerick,  and 
Kerry,  and  sought  to  hold  them  by  extirpating  the  ob- 
noxious natives. 

Against  these  English  inroads  the  great  Geraldine 
League  was  formed.  In  the  reign  of  Mary,  that  boy  of 
twelve  whom  Henry  VIII.  had  not  been  able  to  include 
in  the  general  doom  of  his  house,  had  been  allowed  to 
return  to  Ireland,  and  to  resume  his  ancestral  honors. 
Once  more  the  Geraldines  were  a  great  and  powerful 
family  in  Ireland.  But  their  strength  had  again  awakened 
the  alarm  of  the  English  government.  The  Earl  of  Des- 
mond and  his  brother  had  been  summoned  to  England 
and  cast  into  the  Tower.  Their  cousin,  James  Fitz- 
maurice  of  Desmond,  now  began  to  unite  the  Geral- 
dines against  Carew  and  his  companions,  and  fought 
them  and  those  sent  to  help  them  for  two  years.  They 
were,  of  course,  defeated  ;  not,  however,  so  badly  but 
that  Elizabeth  was  willing  not  only  to  receive  their 
submission,  but  to  release  Desmond  and  his  brother 
from  the  Tower  and  send  them  back  to  Ireland.  James 
Fitzmaurice  Fitzgerald  went  into  voluntary  exile,  wan- 
dering from  capital  to  capital  of  the  Catholic  conti- 
nental powers,  seeking  aid  and  assistance  for  his  cher- 
ished Geraldine  League.  The  Geraldines  and  their 
companion  chiefs  got  encouragement  in  Rome  and 
pledges  from  Spain,  and  they  rose  again  under  the  Earl 
of  Desmond  and  Sir  James  Fitzmaurice  Fitzgerald.  At 
first  they  had  some  successes.  They  had  many  wrongs 
to  avenge.  Sir  Nicholas  Maltby  had  just  crushed  out, 
with  the  most  pitiless  cruelty,  a  rising  of  the  Bourkes 
of  Connaught.  Sir  Francis  Cosby,  the  queen's  repre- 
sentative in  Leix  and  Offaly,  had  conceived  and  exe- 
cuted the  idea  of  preventing  any  further  possible  rising 
of  the  chiefs  in  those  districts  by  summoning  them  and 
their  kinsmen  to  a  great  banquet  in  the  fort  of  Mullagh- 
mast,  and  there  massacring  them  all.  Out  of  four  hun- 
dred guests  only  one  man,  a  Lalor,  escaped  from  that 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  213 

feast  of  blood.  Of  the  clan  O'Moore  no  less  than  one 
hundred  and  eighty  chief  men  were  slaughtered.  One 
of  the  Moores  had  not  come  to  that  fatal  banquet. 
Ruari  Oge  O'Moore,  better  known  as  ''Rory  O'Moore," 
devoted  himself  to  avenging  his  murdered  kinsmen, 
and  the  cry  of  "Remember  MuUaghmast !  "  sounded 
dismally  in  the  ears  of  the  settlers  of  King's  and 
Queen's  Counties  for  many  a  long  year  after,  whenever 
Rory  O'Moore  made  one  of  his  swoops  upon  them  with 
that  shout  for  his  battle-cry.  With  such  memories  in 
their  minds,  the  tribes  rose  in  all  directions  to  the  Des- 
mond call.  Early  in  the  rising  Fitzmaurice  was  killed 
in  a  scuffle.  This  was  a  heavy  blow  to  the  rebels  ;  so 
was  a  defeat  of  the  Geraldines  by  Sir  Nicholas  Maltby 
at  Monaster.  Elizabeth  sent  over  more  troops  to  Ire- 
land under  the  new  Lord  Deputy,  Sir  William  Pelham, 
who  had  with  him  as  ally  Ormonde,  the  head  of  the 
house  of  Butler,  hereditary  foes  of  the  Geraldines, 
and  easily  induced  to  act  against  them.  Pelham  and 
Ormonde  cut  their  way  over  Munster,  reducing  the 
province  by  unexampled  ferocity.  Ormonde  boasted 
that  he  had  put  to  death  nearly  six  thousand  disaffected 
persons.  Just  at  this  moment  some  of  the  chiefs  of  the 
Pale  rose,  and  rose  too  late.  They  gained  one  victory 
over  Lord  Grey  de  Wilton  in  the  pass  of  Glenmalure, 
where  the  troops  were  completely  routed  by  the  chief 
of  Glenmalure,  Feach  MacHugh,  whom  the  English 
called  "  the  Firebrand  of  the  Mountains."  Grey  im- 
mediately abandoned  the  Pale  to  the  insurgents,  and 
tui-ned  to  Smerwick,  where  some  eight  hundred  Spanish 
and  Italian  soldiers  had  just  landed,  too  late  to  be  of 
any  service  to  the  rebellion,  and  had  occupied  the  dis- 
mantled fort.  It  was  at  once  blockaded  by  sea  and 
by  land.  In  Grey's  army  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  and  Ed- 
mund Spenser  both  held  commands.  Smerwick  sur- 
rendered at  discretion,  and  the  prisoners  were  killed  by 
Raleigh  and  his  men  in  cold  blood.  Flushed  by  this 
success.  Grey  returned  to  the  Pale  and  carried  all  be- 
fore him.  The  Geraldines  were  disheartened,  and  were 
defeated  wherever  they  made  a  stand.  Lord  Kildare 
was  arrested  on  suspicion  of  treason,  and  sent  to  Lon- 
don to  die  in  the  Tower.  Martial  law  was  proclaimed 
in  Dublin,  and  every  one,  gentle  or  simple,  suspected 


314  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

of  disaffection  was  promptly  hanged.  Munster  was 
pacified  by  an  unstinted  use  of  sword  and  gallows. 
The  Desmond  held  out  for  a  time,  but  he  was  caught 
at  last  and  killed  in  the  Slievemish  Mountains,  and  his 
head  sent  to  London  to  adorn  the  Tower.  Munster 
was  so  vigorously  laid  waste  that  Mr.  Froude  declares 
that  "the  lowing  of  a  cow  or  the  sound  of  a  plough- 
boy's  whistle  was  not  to  be  heard  from  Valentia  to  the 
Rock  of  Cashel." 

Holinshed  declares  the  traveller  would  not  meet  any 
man,  woman,  or  child,  saving  in  towns  or  cities,  and 
would  not  see  any  beast  ;  and  Spenser  gives  a  melancho- 
ly picture  of  the  misery  of  the  inhabitants,  ''  as  that  any 
stony  heart  would  rue  the  same. "  They  were  driven  by 
misery  to  eat  dead  bodies  scraped  out  of  the  grave  ;  and 
Sir  William  Pelham  proudly  tells  the  queen  how  he 
has  reduced  the  inhabitants  to  prefer  being  slaughtered 
to  dying  of  starvation.  Being  thus  pacified,  Munster 
was  now  divided  into  seigniories  of  from  four  thousand 
to  twelve  thousand  acres,  to  be  held  in  fee  of  the  crown 
at  a  quit-rent  of  from  2d.  to  3^.  per  acre,  by  such  ad- 
venturers as  cared  to  struggle  with  the  dispossessed 
Irish. 

The  next  step  was  to  confiscate  the  estates  of  the  re- 
bellious chieftains.  Sir  John  Perrot  succeeded  Lord 
Grey  as  Deputy.  He  summoned  a  Parliament  at  w^hich 
many  of  the  Irish  chiefs,  persuaded,  no  doubt,  by  the 
strength  of  England's  recent  arguments,  attended  in 
English  dress.  The  Parliament  was  perfectly  manage- 
able. It  attainted  any  one  whom  the  Lord  Deputy 
wished  attainted.  The  estates  of  Desmond  and  some 
hundred  and  forty  of  his  followers  came  to  the  crown. 
The  land  was  then  distributed  at  the  cheapest  rate  in 
large  tracts  to  English  nobles  and  gentlemen  adventur- 
rers,  who  were  pledged  to  colonize  it  with  English  la- 
borers and  tradesmen.  But  of  these  laborers  and 
tradesmen  not  many  came  over,  and  those  who  did 
soon  returned,  tired  of  struggling  for  their  foothold 
w^ith  the  dispossesssed  Irish.  In  default  of  other  ten- 
ants, the  new  owners  of  the  soil  were  practically  forced 
to  take  on  the  natives  as  tenants-at-will,  and  thus  the 
desired  change  of  population  was  not  effected. 

Perrot  was  a  stern  but  not  a  merciless  man,  with  a 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  215 

fierce  temper,  which  made  him  many  enemies  among 
his  own  colleagues.  He  disliked  the  policy  of  Bingham 
in  Connaught,  and  challenged  him.  He  had  a  differ- 
ence of  opinion  with  Sir  Henry  Bagnal,  and  thought 
he  had  settled  it  when  he  had  knocked  Bagnal  down. 
Nor  was  he  more  popular  with  the  Irish.  He  treach- 
erously captured  Hugh  Roe,  or  Red  Hugh  O'Donnel, 
son  of  Hugh  O'Donnel,  of  Tyrconnel,  and  kept  him  in 
Dublin  Castle  as  a  hostage  for  his  father's  good  beha- 
vior, and  thus  made  young  Red  Hugh  a  bitter  and 
dangerous  enemy  to  the  crown.  In  the  end  Perrot 
was  recalled,  and  Sir  William  Fitzwilliam  sent  in  his 
stead. 

After  six  years  of  an  exasperating  rule,  Fitzwilliam 
gave  place  in  1594  to  Sir  William  Russell,  who  found 
the  country  hopelessly  disorganized.  Red  Hugh  had 
escaped  from  Dublin  Castle  to  his  sept  in  Donegal,  and 
his  father  had  resigned  the  chieftainship  to  him.  The 
dragoonings  of  Sir  Richard  Bingham  had  driven  Con- 
naught  to  desperation.  The  northern  tribes  were 
disturbed  ;  some  were  in  rebellion.  Ulster,  which  had 
kept  quiet  all  through  the  Desmond  rebellion,  was 
stirrred  by  the  spirit  of  sedition,  and  its  great  chief, 
Hugh  O'Neil  of  Tyrone,  was  thought  to  be  discontent- 
ed and  dangerous. 

Hugh  O'Neil,  the  grandson  of  that  Con  O'Neil 
whom  Henry  VIII.  had  made  Earl  of  Tyrone,  had 
been  brought  up  at  the  English  court  and  confirmed 
in  the  lordship  of  Tyrone  by  the  English  government. 
In  the  brilliant  court  of  Elizabeth  the  young  Irish 
chief  was  distinguished  for  his  gifts  of  mind  and  body. 
When  he  came  of  age  he  was  allowed  to  return  to  Ire- 
land to  his  earldom.  Once  within  his  own  country  he 
assumed  his  ancestral  title  of  The  O'Neil,  and  revived 
all  the  customs  of  independent  Irish  chieftains.  For 
long  enough  he  took  no  part  in  any  plots  or  movements 
against  the  crown  ;  but  many  things,  the  ties  of  friend- 
ship and  of  love,  combined  to  drive  him  into  rebellion. 
He  had  been  deeply  angered  by  the  imprisonment  of  his 
kinsman,  Red  Hugh  ;  and  when  Red  Hugh  escaped, 
burning  with  a  sense  of  his  wrongs  and  a  desire  for 
revenge,  he  brought  all  his  influence  to  bear  upon 
O'Neil  to  draw  him  into  a  confederation  against  the  gov- 


216  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

ernment.  Another  and  more  romantic  cause  helped 
to  drive  Tyrone  into  revolt.  After  the  death  of  his 
first  wife  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  beautiful  sister 
of  Sir  Henry  Bagnal,  the  Lord  Marshal,  and  the  lady 
had  returned  his  love.  In  defiance  of  the  fierce  oppo- 
sition of  her  brother,  she  eloped  with  the  Irish  chief, 
and  made  Bagnal  the  remorseless  enemy  of  Tyrone. 

Bagnal  used  all  his  influence  to  discredit  Tyrone  in 
the  eyes  of  the  English  government,  and  he  succeeded. 
Urged  by  Red  Hugh  and  the  rebellious  chiefs  on  the 
one  side,  and  by  the  enmity  of  Bagnal  and  the  growing 
distrust  of  the  English  government  on  the  other, 
Tyrone  in  the  end  consented  to  give  the  powerful  sup- 
port of  his  name  and  his  arms  to  a  skilfully  planned 
confederation  of  the  tribes.  On  all  sides  the  Irish 
chiefs  entered  into  the  insurrection.  O'Neil  was  cer- 
tainly the  most  formidable  Irish  leader  the  English  had 
yet  encountered.  He  was  a  brilliant  general  and  a 
skilled  politician,  and  even  Mr.  Froude  admits  that 
"his  career  is  unstained  with  personal  crimes."  He 
defeated  an  English  army  under  Bagnal  at  the  Black- 
water,  after  a  fierce  battle,  inflamed  by  more  than  mere 
national  animosity.  Each  leader  was  animated  by  a 
bitter  hatred  of  his  opponent,  which  lends  something 
of  an  Homeric  character  to  the  struggle  by  the  Black- 
water.  But  Tyrone  was  fortunate  in  war  as  in  love. 
Bagnal's  forces  were  completely  defeated,  and  Bagnal 
himself  killed.  Fortune  seemed  to  smile  on  Tyrone's 
arms.  Victory  followed  victory.  In  a  little  while  all 
Ireland,  with  the  exception  of  Dublin  and  a  few  garri- 
son towns,  was  in  the  hands  of  the  rebels.  Essex,  and 
the  largest  army  ever  sent  to  Ireland,  crossed  the  Chan- 
nel to  cope  with  him  ;  but  Essex  made  no  serious 
move,  and  after  an  interview  with  Tyrone,  in  which  he 
promised  more  than  he  could  perform,  he  returned  to 
England  to  his  death.  His  place  was  taken  by  Lord 
Mountjoy,  who,  for  all  his  love  of  angling  and  of  Eliza- 
bethan "play-books,"  was  a  stronger  man.  Tyrone  met 
him  ;  was  defeated.  From  that  hour  the  rebellion  was 
over.  A  Spanish  army  that  had  come  to  aid  the  rebels 
hurriedly  re-embarked  ;  many  of  the  chiefs  began  to 
surrender  ;  wild  Red  Hugh  O'Donnel,  flying  to  Spain 
to  rouse  allies,  was  poisoned  and  died.     The  sufferings 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  217 

of  the  Irish  were  terrible.  Moryson,  Mountjoy's  secre- 
tary, a  great  traveller  for  his  time,  a  Ulysses  of  ten 
years'  wanderings,  tells  much  the  same  stories  of  the 
after-consequences  of  this  revolution  which  were  told 
by  Spenser  of  the  former.  The  carcasses  of  people  lay 
in  ditches,  their  dead  mouths  open,  green  with  the 
docks  and  nettles  on  which  they  had  endeavored  to 
support  life.  Young  children  were  trapped  and  eaten 
by  the  starving  women  who  were  hiding  in  the  woods 
on  the  Newry.  He  and  Sir  Arthur  Chichester  wit- 
nessed the  horrible  spectacle  of  three  young  children 
devouring  the  entrails  of  their  dead  mother. 

At  last  Tyrone  was  compelled  to  com.e  to  terms. 
He  surrendered  his  estates,  renounced  all  claim  to  the 
title  of  The  O'Neil,  abjured  alliance  with  all  foreign 
powers,  and  promised  to  introduce  English  laws  and 
customs  into  Tyrone.  In  return  he  received  a  free 
pardon  and  a  re-grant  of  his  title  and  lands  by  letters 
patent.  Rory  O'Donnel,  Red  Hugh's  brother,  also 
submitted,  and  was  allow^ed  to  retain  the  title  of  Earl 
of  Tyrconnel.  Elizabeth  was  already  dead,  and  the 
son  of  Mary  Stuart  was  King  of  England  when  these 
terms  were  made  ;  but  they  were  not  destined  to  do 
much  good. 

Tyrone  was  brought  to  London  to  meet  King  James. 
He  stayed  at  Wanstead  as  Mountjoy's  guest,  where, 
four-and-twenty  years  before,  he  had  been  present  at 
Leicester's  entertainment  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Those 
four-and-twenty  years  had  brought  many  changes : 
they  had  carried  away  many  gallant  gentlemen  and 
wise  statesmen  and  brave  soldiers  ;  they  had  changed 
Tyrone  from  the  brilliant  young  man  dreaming  after 
liberty  into  the  ''  new  man  "  of  Elizabeth's  successor. 

Tyrone  returned  to  Ireland,  but  not  to  peace.  King 
James  was  determined  to  reform  the  country  after  his 
own  fashion,  and  in  King  James's  mind  reform  meant 
supporting  the  Protestant  religion  everywhere,  enforc- 
ing all  laws  against  the  Catholics,  crushing  out  what- 
ever remains  of  the  old  Brehon  laws  still  lingered  in 
the  country,  and  definitely  establishing  the  English 
law,  which  only  the  English  settlers  liked,  in  its  stead. 
Sir  George  Carew  had  been  Deputy,  and  had  come 
back  to  England  with  a  store  of  money,  and  Chichester 


218  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

was  in  his  place  making  himself  hateful  to  the  Irish  by 
his  ingenious  methods  of  wresting  their  land  from  its 
rightful  owners,  and  by  his  pitiless  intolerance  of  the 
Catholic  religion.  The  Irish  Catholics  had  hoped  for 
toleration  from  James — James,  indeed,  promised  them 
on  his  accession  the  privilege  of  exercising  their  re- 
ligion in  private  ;  but  he  soon  revoked  his  promise, 
and  the  state  of  the  Irish  Catholics  was  worse  than  be- 
fore. Tyrconnel  himself  was  called  upon  to  conform 
to  the  English  faith.  Lest  these  and  kindred  exaspera- 
tions might  arouse  once  more  the  dangerous  wrath  of 
the  chiefs,  Chichester  enforced  a  rigorous  disarmament 
of  the  kernes.  It  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at  if  the  re- 
forming spirit  of  James  did  not  greatly  commend  itself 
to  two  such  national  leaders  as  Tyrone  and  Tyrconnel  ; 
it  would  not  be  very  surprising  if  they  had  thoughts  of 
striving  against  it.  Whether  they  had  such  thoughts 
or  not,  they  w^ere  accused  of  entertaining  them.  They 
were  seen  to  be  dangerous  enemies  to  the  king's  pol- 
icy, whom  it  would  be  convenient  to  have  out  of  the 
way,  and  they  were  proclaimed  as  traitors.  They  seem 
to  have  been  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  resist- 
ance just  then  ;  they  saw  that  it  was  death  to  remain, 
and  they  fled  into  exile.  ''  It  is  certain,"  say  the  Four 
Masters,  "  that  the  sea  never  carried,  and  the  winds 
never  wafted,  from  the  Irish  shores  individuals  more 
illustrious  or  noble  in  genealogy,  or  more  renowned 
for  deeds  of  valor,  prowess,  and  high  achievements." 
Tyrone  with  his  wife,  Tyrconnel  with  his  sister  and 
friends  and  followers,  ninety-nine  in  all,  set  sail  in  one 
small  vessel  on  the  14th  of  September,  1607,  and  tossed 
for  twenty-one  days  upon  the  raging  waves  of  the  sea. 
We  hear  of  O'Neil  trailing  his  golden  crucifix  at  the 
vessel's  wake  to  bring  about  a  calm  ;  of  two  storm- 
worn  merlins  who  took  shelter  in  the  rigging  and  w^ere 
kindly  cared  for  by  the  Irish  ladies.  On  the  4th  of 
October  they  landed  at  Quilleboeuf,  on  the  coast  of 
France,  and  made  their  way  to  Rouen,  receiving  kind 
treatment  at  all  hands.  James  demanded  their  sur- 
render, but  Henri  Quatre  refused  to  comply,  though 
he  advised  the  exiles  to  go  into  Flanders. 

Into    Flanders    they  went,    their   ladies   giving   the 
Marshal  of  Normandy  those  two  storm-worn  merlins 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY,  219 

they  had  cherished,  as  a  token  of  their  gratitude  for 
his  kindness.  From  Flanders,  in  time,  they  made  their 
way  to  Rome,  and  there  they  lived  in  exile,  and  died 
long  years  after.  Tyrconnel  died  first,  in  1608,  and  the 
Four  Masters  weep  over  his  early  eclipse.  Clad  in  the 
simple  robe  of  a  Franciscan  friar,  he  was  buried  in 
the  Franciscan  church  of  St.  Pietro  in  Montorio,  where 
the  Janiculum  overlooks  the  glory  of  Rome,  the  yel- 
low Tiber,  and  the  Alban  Hills,  the  deathless  Coliseum 
and  the  stretching  Campagna.  Raphael  had  painted 
the  Transfiguration  for  the  grand  altar  ;  the  hand  of 
Sebastiano  del  Piombo  had  colored  its  walls  with  the 
scourging  of  the  Redeemer.  Close  at  hand  tradition 
marks  the  spot  where  Peter  was  crucified.  In  such  a 
spot,  made  sacred  by  all  that  art  and  religion  could 
lend  of  sanctity,  the  spirit  of  Tyrconnel  rested  in  peace 
at  last.  His  companion  in  arms  and  in  misfortune  sur- 
vived him  some  eight  years.  We  have  a  melancholy 
picture  of  old  Tyrone  wandering  about  in  Rome,  and 
wishing  in  vain  to  be  back  in  his  own  land  and  able  to 
strike  a  good  blow  for  her.  He  died  at  last,  on  July 
20,  16 1 6,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age,  a  brave, 
sad,  blind  old  man.  He  was  buried  in  the  little  church 
on  the  Janiculum,  by  the  side  of  Tyrconnel. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    CROMWELLIAN    SETTLEMENT. 

After  the  flight  of  the  earls,  Ireland  was  entirely  in 
James's  hands.  The  very  few  who  opposed  his  author- 
ity were  sternly  and  summarily  dealt  with.  His  writ 
ran  in  every  part  of  the  island  ;  there  was  a  sheriff  for 
every  shire  ;  the  old  Irish  law  was  everywhere  super- 
seded ;  there  was  nothing  to  interfere  with  James's 
schemes  for  confiscating  Irish  lands  and  planting  Irish 
provinces.  The  English  had  already  made  strong  set- 
tlements in  Leinster,  Connaught,  and  Munster.  Ulster 
had  hitherto  been  practically  untouched,  but  now  at 


220  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

last  it  too  was  to  come  under  the  control  of  the  crowa 
The  alleged  treason  of  the  two  earls  served  as  an  ex- 
cuse for  confiscating  the  counties  of  Donegal,  Derry, 
Tyrone,  Fermanagh,  Cavan,  and  Armagh.  A  sort  of 
commission  sat  at  Limavaddy  to  parcel  out  the  lands 
of  men  who  had  committed  no  other  offence  than  that 
of  serving  under  the  exiled  chieftains.  Ulster  was 
planted  with  a  thoroughly  Protestant  and  anti-Irish 
colony  of  English  and  Scotch  adventurers,  and  the 
Irish  were  driven  away  from  the  fertile  lands  like  Red 
Indians,  to  contracted  and  miserable  reserv^ations, 
while  the  fighting  men  were  shipped  off  to  sw^ell  the 
armies  of  Gustavus  Adolphus.  Twelve  City  of  Lon- 
don companies  bought  great  tracts  of  land  in  Derry  at 
very  cheap  rates.  Six  of  these  companies — the  Mer- 
cers, Salters,  Skinners,  Ironmongers,  Fishmongers,  and 
Drapers — still  retain  much  of  the  property  thus 
acquired.  The  disinheriting  process  w^as  carried  on 
not  by  force  alone,  but  by  fraud.  Men  called  "dis- 
coA'erers  "  made  it  their  business  to  spy  out  flaws  in 
titles  of  land,  in  order  that  they  might  be  confiscated 
by  the  crown. 

Conspicuous  among  the  English  adventurers,  a  very 
mirror  of  the  merits  of  his  kind,  is  Richard  Boyle,  who 
afterwards  became  the  first  Earl  of  Cork.  He  w^as  a 
man  of  very  low  beginnings.  He  has  been  happily  de- 
scribed as  a  forger,  a  horse-thief,  and  a  conniver  at 
murder,  w4io  made  Providence  his  inheritance  and 
prospered  by  it.  Boyle  landed  in  Dublin  on  Midsum- 
mer Eve,  June  23,  1588,  with  some  twenty-seven  pounds 
in  his  pocket,  a  couple  of  suits  of  clothes,  a  diamond 
ring  and  a  gold  bracelet,  and,  of  course,  his  rapier  and 
dagger.  After  seven  years'  stay,  the  adventurer  w^as 
lucky  enough,  aided,  perhaps,  by  the  diamond  ring  and 
the  gold  bracelet,  to  win  the  heart  and  hand  of  a  lady 
of  Limerick  with  five  hundred  pounds  a  year.  This 
was  the  beginning  of  his  fortunes.  From  that  hour 
lands  and  money  accumulated  about  him.  As  long  as 
he  got  it  he  little  cared  how  it  came.  No  man  was 
more  ready  to  lay  his  hands  upon  any  property  of  the 
Church,  or  otherw^ise,  that  he  could  securely  close 
them  over.  He  swindled  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  then  in 
prison  and  near  his  death,  out  of  his  Irish  land,  for  a 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  231 

sum  shamelessly  below  its  value,  and  throve  upon  the 
swindle.  He  is  a  fair  type  of  the  men  with  whom  James 
planted  Ulster  and  Leinster,  and  with  whom  he  would 
have  planted  Connaught,  but  that  he  died  before  he 
was  able  to  carry  that  scheme  into  effect.  But  Charles 
inherited  the  scheme.  Ingenious  court  lawyers  investi- 
gated and  invalidated  the  titles  of  the  Connaught  land- 
lords, and  Charles  soon  found  himself  the  owner  of  all 
Connaught,  in  the  same  sense  that  a  burglar  is  the 
owner  of  the  watches,  the  plate,  and  jewels  that  are  the 
results  of  a  successful  "  plant."  But  land  w^as  not 
enough  for  Charles  ;  he  wanted  money.  He  w^as  always 
wanting  money,  and  he  found  a  means  of  raising  it  in 
Ireland  by  promising  grants  of  civil  and  religious  lib- 
erty to  the  Catholics  in  exchange  for  so  much  down. 
The  money  was  soon  forthcoming,  but  the  promised 
liberties  never  came.  Charles's  great  ally  in  the  man- 
agement of  Ireland  was  Thomas  Wentworth,  to  whom 
the  government  of  the  country  was  given.  Strafford 
devoted  the  great  abilities,  of  which  Lord  Digby  truly 
said  "  that  God  had  given  him  the  use  and  the  devil 
the  application,"  to  supporting  Charles's  fraudulent 
schemes  for  extorting  money,  until  his  malign  influence 
w^as  removed  by  the  summons  to  England  which  ended 
in  his  death.  But  when  the  revolution  began  in  Eng- 
land, which  ended  with  the  fall  of  the  king's  head, 
many  of  the  Irish  thought  their  time  had  come. 

In  1 641  the  remnant  of  native  Irish  in  Ulster  rose, 
under  Sir  Phelim  O'Neil,  against  the  oppression  of  the 
Scotch  settlers.  This  rising  of  1641  has  been  "written 
about  often  enough  by  English  historians,  as  if  it  were 
an  act  of  unparalleled  wickedness  and  ferocity.  It  is 
written  of  with  horror  and  hatred  as  the  "  massacre  of 
1 641."  Mr.  Froude,  in  especial,  has  lent  all  the  weight 
of  his  name  and  his  eloquence  to  this  theory  of  a  gi- 
gantic and  well-organized  massacre  ;  but  Mr.  Froude's 
statements  are  too  curiously  in  advance  of  his  evi- 
dence, and  his  evidence  too  untrustw^orthy  to  claim 
much  historical  importance.  The  business  of  1641  was 
bad  enough  without  Mr.  Froude  doing  his  best  to 
make  it  worse.  In  one  part  of  Ireland  a  certain  body 
of  men  for  a  short  time  rose  in  successful  insurrection, 
and  they  killed  their  oppressors  as  their  oppressors  had 


222  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

always  killed  their  kin,  wherever  they  could  get  at  them. 
Undoubtedly  there  were  a  great  many  people"  killed. 
That,  of  course,  no  one  attempts,  no  one  desires,  to 
justify ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  was  no 
worse  than  any  one  of  the  many  massacres  of  the  Irish 
by  the  English,  which  had  taken  place  again  and  again, 
any  time  within  the  memory  of  the  men  then  living,  to 
go  no  further  back.  Far  be  it  from  me,  far  be  it  from 
any  one,  to  defend  the  cruelties  that  accompanied  the 
rising  of  1641  ;  but  it  is  only  fair  to  remember  that 
most  nations  that  have  been  treated  cruelly  are  cruel  in 
their  revenge  when  they  get  it,  and  the  followers  of  Sir 
Phelim  O'Neil  believed  they  had  as  bitter  wrongs  to 
avenge  as  men  can  have.  They  had  been  taught 
lessons  of  massacre  by  their  masters,  and  this  was  their 
first  essay.  The  massacre  of  Mullaghmast,  Essex's 
treacherous  massacre  of  the  clan  O'Neil,  the  dragoon- 
ing of  Connaught  by  Bingham,  the  desolation  of 
Munster,  all  these  atrocities  are  slurred  over  in  order 
to  lend  an  uncontrasted  horror  to  Irish  crimes.  Mr. 
Prendergast  and  Mr.  John  Mitchel  have  both  written  to 
show  the  terrible  exaggerations  that  have  attended 
upon  all  representations  of  the  rising  of  1641.  These 
are  Irish  historians  ;  but  an  English  historian,  Mr. 
Goldwin  Smith,  is  fairer  than  Mr.  Froude.  To  him  the 
early  part  of  the  rising  presents  a  ''  picture  of  the  ven- 
geance which  a  people,  brutalized  by  oppression,  wreaks 
in  the  moment  of  its  brief  triumph  on  its  oppressor." 
He  considers  it  "  to  have  been  unpremeditated,  and 
opposed  to  the  policy  of  the  leaders  ; "  and  when  the 
struggle  had  begun,  "  the  English  and  Scotch  settlers 
perhaps  exceeded  the  Irish  in  atrocity,  especially  when 
we  consider  their  comparative  civilization.  The  Irish 
population  of  Island  Magee,  though  innocent  of  the  re- 
bellion, were  massacred,  man,  woman,  and  child,  by 
the  Scotch  garrison  of  Carrickfergus." 

The  historian  Borlase,  kinsman  to  the  chief-justice 
of  that  name,  rejoicing  over  the  exploit  of  the  soldiers 
against  the  rebels,  mentions  as  one  item  how  Sir  W. 
Cole's  regiment  "starved  and  famished  of  the  vulgar 
sort,  whose  goods  were  seized  on  by  this  regiment, 
7,000."  No  cruelties  on  the  one  side  can  ever  justify 
retaliation  on  the  other,  but  to  mention  them  will  at 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  223 

least  serve  to  dispel  the  idea  which  Mr.  Froude  would 
willingly  foster,  that  at  a  sudden  point  in  the  history 
of  a  blameless  and  bloodless  rule,  some  wicked  Irish 
rose  up  and  slew  some  of  their  just  and  merciful  mas- 
ters. The  masters  were  neither  just  nor  merciful, 
bloodless  nor  blameless.  It  was  hardly  to  be  expected 
that  a  people,  treated  as  they  had  been,  would  act  very 
mercifully  when  their  turn  came.  Yet  in  many  cases 
they  did  act  mercifully.  The  followers  of  Sir  Phelim 
spared  some  lives  they  might  have  taken  ;  pitied  some 
who  were  in  their  power.  There  has  been  monstrous 
exaggeration  about  the  stories  of  wholesale  massacre. 
Most  of  the  evidence  given  before  the  commission  sent 
to  inquire  into  the  thing  is  given  on  hearsay,  and  it  is 
on  this  evidence  that  the  accounts  of  the  massacre  de- 
pend. Old  women  who  were  ill  in  bed,  and  saw  noth- 
ing of  the  struggle,  gave  as  evidence  the  statements  of 
friends,  who  told  them  that  in  many  places  thousands 
of  persons  were  massacred.  Others,  again,  were  as- 
sured of  such  slaughterings  of  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  persons  in  different  parts  of  the  country  by  the 
rebels  themselves,  who  display  throughout  the  evi- 
dence a  most  remarkable  taste  for  self-accusation. 
Equally  valuable  and  veracious  evidence  testifies  that 
the  ghosts  of  the  murdered  were  seen  stalking  abroad 
— that  in  the  river  near  Portadown,  where  the  worst  of 
the  killing  was  said  to  have  been,  the  body  of  a  man 
stood  erect  for  three  days  in  the  middle  of  the  water, 
and  that  corpses  floated  against  the  stream  several 
days  after  they  had  been  drowned,  in  order  to  meet 
one  of  their  murderers  w^ho  was  crossing  the  bridge  ! 

However  it  began.  Sir  Phelim  O'Neil's  rising  soon 
flamed  up  into  a  general  rebellion.  One  of  the  most 
prominent  of  its  leaders  was  Roger  Moore,  the  last  of 
a  stately,  ruined  family,  one  of  whose  ancestors  had 
died  in  the  Tower  under  Edward  VI.  He  was  a  brave 
and  honorable  gentleman,  whose  handsome  face  and 
graceful  bearing  commended  him  closely  to  the  men 
from  whom  he  sought  help,  whom  his  eloquence  was 
well  calculated  to  persuade,  and  his  statesman-like 
prudence  and  foresight  to  encourage.  His  daring  and 
gallantry  endeared  him  to  his  followers,  who  were  al- 
ways ready  to  fight  their  best  for  the  war-cry  of  ''  For 


224  /^^  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

God,  our  Lady,  and  Roger  Moore."  At  his  instance 
Colonel  Owen  O'Neil — better  known  as  Owen  Roe — 
came  over  from  Spain  to  consolidate  and  command  the 
insurrection.  He  was  a  nephew  of  the  great  Tyrone, 
who  had  died  in  Rome  ;  he  was  a  brave  and  gallant 
gentleman,  of  high  and  honorable  position  in  the 
Spanish  army ;  he  was  the  natural  leader  of  the  Irish 
people.  Success,  at  first,  was  strewm  before  his  feet. 
A  National  Convention  met  at  Kilkenny  in  October, 
1642,  to  establish  the  independence  of  Ireland.  It  took 
upon  itself  all  the  powers  of  a  provisional  government : 
appointed  the  officers  of  its  army  ;  organized  provincial 
councils  ;  issued  proclamations ;  ordered  its  own  seal 
to  be  cut ;  established  a  mint  for  coining  its  own 
money,  and  in  every  way  showed  itself  ready  to  carry 
out  the  work  of  national  administration.  Frequent 
help  came  from  abroad.  In  O'Neil's  hands  the  army 
acquired  new  strength,  and  the  struggle  w^as  carried  on 
with  marked  humanity.  The  insurrection  seemed  in  a 
fair  way  to  become  a  successful  revolution.  There  were 
altogether  four  parties  in  Ireland,  three  of  whom  it 
was  to  the  king's  advantage  to  conciliate.  The  fourth 
and  least  important  was  that  of  the  Puritans  and  the 
English  Parliament,  headed  by  the  Lords-justices  Par- 
sons and  Borlase,  whom  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith  describes 
as  a  pair  of  scoundrels  who  had  done  their  best  to 
foment  the  rebellion  for  their  owm  advantage,  and 
Generals  Munroe  and  Coote  the  cruel.  The  three 
other  parties  were — first,  the  native  Irish,  under  Owen 
Roe,  guided  by  the  Papal  Nuncio  Rinuccini,  who  had 
come  over  from  Rome  to  lend  his  support  and  counsels 
to  the  movement  ;  second,  the  Anglo-Irish,  chiefly  com- 
posed of  Catholic  nobles,  who  supported  the  king,  but 
stood  out  for  their  own  rights  and  religion  ;  and,  thirdly, 
the  king's  party,  with  his  Lord-deputy,  Lord  Ormonde, 
at  its  head.  Lord  Ormonde  was  a  Protestant,  entirely 
devoted  to  his  king,  and  compelled  to  play  a  very  diffi- 
cult game  in  trying  to  keep  together  the  rebellious 
Irish  who  were  willing  to  support  Charles,  and  yet  at 
the  same  time  avoid  giving  offence  to  Charles's  Eng- 
lish followers,  v/ho  wished  for  no  terms  with  the  Irish. 
Like  most  of  the  Irish  leaders  of  his  time,  Ormonde 
had  had  a  strangely  checkered  career.   He  was  the  grand- 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  225 

son  of  the  eleventh  Earl  of  Ormonde,  whose  estates  had 
been  unjustly  filched  from  him  by  his  son-in-law,  Sir 
Richard  Preston,  who  had  obtained  the  favor  of  James, 
and  with  it  the  patent  of  the  earldom  of  Desmond. 
Young  James  Butler  seemed  thus  quite  cut  off  from 
his  inheritance,  but  he  was  lucky  enough  to  meet  and 
win  the  affections  of  PrestK)n's  daughter,  his  cousin.  He 
married  her,  and  so  in  time  came  into  not  only  the  title 
of  Earl  of  Ormonde,  but  into  the  possession  of  the  good 
broad  lands  of  the  family.  Ormonde  had  managed  his 
own  affairs  skilfully  enough,  but  he  was  not  the  man 
to  fill  a  position  of  great  and  responsible  statesmanship. 
His  mediocre  abilities  and  temporizing  spirit  were  quite 
unsuited  to  the  desperate  circumstances  in  which  he 
was  placed.  Charles  himself,  harassed  by  English  rev- 
olutionists at  home,  made  many  and  any  pledges  to  the 
Irish  revolutionists,  in  the  hope  of  winning  them  to  his 
side.  He  never  had  the  chance  of  breaking  these 
pledges.  The  execution  at  Whitehall  left  Cromwell 
free  to  deal  with  Ireland.  He  entered  Ireland  with 
8,000  foot  and  4,000  horse,  and  marched  from  victory  to 
victory.  Everything  w^as  in  his  favor  :  his  own  military 
genius,  the  laurels  of  Worcester  and  Nasseby,  the  dis- 
organization of  the  Irish  parties ;  and  the  contentions 
that  had  sprung  up  among  them,  especially  the  removal 
of  the  only  man  really  capable  of  doing  anything  against 
the  Lord-general  in  the  field.  Owen  Roe  O'Neil  died 
suddenly,  it  was  said,  of  course,  by  poison,  though 
there  seems  little  reason  to  believe  this,  and  with  his 
death  all  chance  of  the  independence  dreamed  of  by 
the  Kilkenny  Convention  was  over  for  that  time.  Ro- 
ger Moore,  the  gallant  and  heroic,  was  already  dead ; 
killed,  it  was  said,  by  bitter  disappointment  at  the 
gradual  failure  of  the  cause  he  had  so  much  at  heart. 
Sir  Phelim  O'Neil  was  captured  soon  after.  However 
he  had  lived,  he  died  like  a  brave  man ;  he  was  offered 
a  pardon  if  he  would  only  say  that  he  took  up  arms  by 
the  king's  command,  but  he  preferred  to  die.  One 
after  another  the  Irish  leaders  surrendered  or  were 
defeated.  The  king's  party  was  practically  nowhere. 
Ormonde  had  fled  to  France  for  his  life.  After  Crom- 
well had  captured  Drogheda  and  put  all  its  people  to 
the  sword,  after  he  had  conquered  Wexford  and  slaugh- 


220  AN    OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

tered  no  less  pitilessly  its  inhabitants,  the  revolution 
was  at  an  end.  Ireland  was  at  Cromwell's  mercy,  and, 
like  all  his  predecessors,  he  resolved  to  make  a  new 
settlement. 

The  government  of  Ireland  was  now  vested  in  a  dep- 
uty Commander-in-chief  and  four  commissioners,  with 
a  High  Court  of  Justice,  which  dealt  out  death,  exile, 
and  slavery  in  liberal  measure.  The  Parliament  had 
soothed  the  claims  of  its  army  by  giving  its  officers 
and  men  debentures  for  Irish  land  ;  and  similar  de- 
bentures were  held  by  a  vast  number  of  adventurers, 
who  had  speculated  thus  in  Irish  land,  while  the  strug- 
gle was  going  on,  to  the  amount  of  some  2,500,000 
acres.  These  claims  had  now  to  be  settled  ;  but  the 
adventurers  w^ere  not  willing  to  settle  until  all  possible 
danger  was  removed.  There  were  disbanded  soldiers 
in  Ireland  who  might  interfere  with  the  peaceful  settle- 
ments of  Cromwellian  w^ould-be  landlords  ;  and  these 
must  be  got  rid  of  before  any  serious  plantation  could 
be  effected.  Word  was  sent  throughout  Europe  that 
nations  friendly  to  the  Commonwealth  would  not  beat 
their  drums  in  vain  in  the  market-places  of  Irish  garri- 
son towns.  The  valor  of  Irish  soldiers  was  well  enough 
known  abroad.  It  had  been  praised  by  William  the 
Silent  and  Henri  Ouatre  ;  and  the  redeemer  of  Holland 
and  the  victor  of  Ivry  were  good  judges  of  tall  soldiers. 
So  the  drums  of  Spain,  Poland,  and  France  were  set 
rattling  all  over  Ireland,  and  to  their  tuck  the  disbanded 
soldiery  marched  away  to  the  number  of  44,000,  be- 
tween 165 1  and  1654,  to  die  beneath  foreign  banners 
on  foreign  fields.  Women  and  girls  who  were  in  the 
way  of  the  adventurers  could  be  got  rid  of  no  less  prof- 
itably to  West  Indian  planters  weary  of  maroon  and 
negro  women.  Into  such  shameful  slavery  thousands 
of  unhappy  Irishwomen  were  sent,  and  it  was  only 
when,  the  Irish  supply  being  exhausted,  the  dealers  in 
human  flesh  began  to  seize  upon  English  women  to 
swell  their  lists,  that  the  practice  was  prohibited.  Sir 
William  Petty  states  that  6,000  boys  and  girls  were 
sent  to  the  West  Indies  ;  and  the  total  number  trans- 
ported there  and  to  Virginia  was  estimated  at  10,000. 
Henry  Cromwell  not  only  approved  of  the  exportation 
by  force  of   some   thousand  ''Irish  wenches "  for  the 


AN   OUTLmE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  327 

consolation  of  the  soldiers  in  the  newly  acquired  col- 
ony of  Jamaica,  but  of  his  own  motion  suggested  the 
shipment,  also,  of  from  1,500  to  2,000  boys  of  from 
twelve  to  fourteen  years  of  age.  ''  We  could  well  spare 
them,"  he  says,  ''  and  who  knows  but  it  might  be  a 
means  to  make  them  English — I  mean  Christians  ?  " 

Now  came  the  turn  of  the  adventurers.  The  govern- 
ment reserved  for  itself  all  the  towns,  Church  land, 
and  tithes,  and  the  counties  Kildare,  Dublin,  Carlow, 
and  Cork,  to  satisfy  friends  and  favorites  who  were  not 
army  men.  The  portion  of  each  adventurer  in  Ulster, 
Leinster,  or  Munster  was  decided  by  lot,  at  a  lottery 
held  in  Grocers'  Hall,  London,  in  July,  1653.  To  make 
the  condition  of  the  adventurers  comfortable,  each  of 
the  planted  counties  was  divided  in  half,  and  the  ad- 
venturers were  quartered,  for  their  greater  encourage- 
ment and  protection,  in  alternate  baronies  with  soldier 
settlers.  The  rest  of  Ireland,  except  Connaught,  was 
apportioned  to  satisfy  the  arrears  of  officers  and  sol- 
diers. To  keep  the  new  settlers  free  from  all  Irish  in- 
fluences, Connaught  was  appointed  as  a  reservation  for 
the  Irish,  and  all  English  holding  lands  in  Connaught 
were  allowed  to  exchange  them  for  estates  of  equal 
value  in  other  parts  of  Ireland.  The  Irish  were  then 
driven  and  cooped  into  Connaught.  They  were  not 
allowed  to  appear  within  two  miles  of  the  river  or  four 
miles  of  the  sea,  and  a  rigorous  passport  system  was 
established,  to  evade  which  was  death  without  form  of 
trial.  Irish  noblemen,  who  were  pardoned  for  being 
Irish,  were  compelled  to  wear  a  distinctive  mark  upon 
their  dress,  under  pain  of  death  ;  and  persons  of  infe- 
rior rank  bore  a  black  spot  on  the  right  cheek,  under 
pain  of  branding  or  the  gallows.  It  is  curious  to  re- 
flect that  all  these  precautions  were  not  able  to  secure 
the  Ironsides  from  the  dreaded  Irish  influence,  and 
that  forty  years  later  many  of  the  children  of  Crom- 
well's troopers  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English. 

The  plantation  of  the  unhappy  Irish  in  Connaught 
was  slowly  and  sternly  accomplished.  Land-owners  had 
the  choice  of  becoming  the  tenants-at-will  of  the  new 
settlers,  or  of  dying  on  the  road-side.  The  commis- 
sioners were  much  harassed  in  the  execution  of  their 
task  by  the  unreasonable  clamor  of  the  dispossessed 


228  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Irish,  who  objected  to  being  reserved  in   Connaught, 

and  who  complained  that  the  w^hole  of  the  province  was 
waste  from  famine.  There  were  parts  of  Connaught 
where  it  was  truly  said  that  there  was  not  wood  enough 
to  hang,  water  enough  to  drown,  or  earth  enough  to 
bury  a  man.  The  commissioners,  anxious,  no  doubt, 
that  the  Irish  should  know  the  worst  at  once,  had  sent 
the  earliest  transplanted  to  this  inhospitable  place,  and 
their  dismay  communicated  itself  to  the  as  yet  untrans- 
planted.  The  hunted  and  harassed  Irish  nobles  would 
not  transplant  themselves.  It  needed  some  punishments 
by  death  to  quicken  the  general  desire  to  seek  the  ap- 
pointed haven  w^est  of  the  Shannon.  But  death  not 
proving  convenient,  as  executions  would  have  had  to 
be  ordered  wholesale,  it  was  decided  to  ship  off  the  res- 
tive Irish,  who  w^ould  not  go  to  Connaught,  to  the  West 
Indies.  But  the  unhappy  wretches  who  got  to  Con- 
naught were  not  at  the  end  of  their  misery.  The  officers 
employed  to  settle  them  in  their  new  homes  had  to  be 
bribed  by  money  or  by  portion  of  the  reserved  land  to 
carry  out  the  law,  and  the  greedy  officers  were  easily 
able  to  force  the  unhappy  transplanters  to  sell  the  rest 
of  their  reduced  lots  at  miserably  small  rates.  The 
transplanted,  rich  and  poor,  w^ere  wretchedly  lodged  in 
smoky  cabins  or  under  the  open  air,  and  lay  down  and 
measured  out  their  graves  in  common  confusion  and 
misery,  peer  wath  peasant,  starved  to  death. 

The  towns  were  cleared  as  well.  The  inhabitants  of 
Limerick,  Galway,  Waterford,  and  Wexford  were 
ejected  with  scant  compensation  and  scanter  ceremony, 
to  make  room  for  English  merchants  from  Liverpool 
and  Gloucester.  The  dispossessed  Irish  merchants 
fled  across  the  seas  to  carry  their  skill  and  thrift  to 
other  lands,  and  in  the  new  hands  the  commercial  pros- 
perity of  the  towns  dwindled  away.  Galway,  that  had 
been  a  flourishing  seaport,  never  recovered  her  reset- 
tlement. The  Irish  who  were  dispossessed,  and  who 
would  not  transplant  or  go  into  exile,  took  to  the 
woods  and  mountains,  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  and  the 
caves  of  the  earth,  and  lived  a  life  of  wild  brigandage, 
like  the  Greek  Klephts  dispossessed  by  the  Turk.  The 
government  put  a  price  upon  the  heads  alike  of  these 
Tories,  of  priests,  and  of  wolves. 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  229 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   RESTORATION. — WILLIAM   OF   ORANGE, 

When  Cromwell  and  the  Cromwellian  rule  had 
passed  away  and  the  Stuart  king  came  over  to  "enjoy 
his  own  again,"  most  of  the  dispossessed  Irish  gentle- 
men, whose  loyalty  to  his  cause  and  creed  had  cost 
them  their  estates,  and  driven  them  to  exile  abroad, 
or  w^orse  than  exile  in  the  Connaught  reservations, 
thought  not  unreasonably  that  they  might  be  allowed 
to  "  enjoy  their  own  again,"  too,  as  well  as  their  merry 
monarch.  They  were  grievously  disappointed.  The 
Cromwellian  landholders  were  quite  prepared  to  secure 
their  estates  by  loyal  recognition  of  the  new  rule,  and 
their  adhesion  was  far  more  serviceable  to  the  second 
Charles  than  the  allegiance  of  the  ruined  Irish  gentle- 
men. 

Men  like  Broghill  were  not  prepared  to  let  the  lands 
they  had  got  during  the  Cromwellian  settlement  slip 
between  their  fingers.  Broghill,  the  infamous  Brog- 
hill, as  he  has  been  justly  called,  was  a  worthy  son  of 
the  adventurer  Richard  Boyle,  who  has  passed  into  his- 
tory as  the  ''great  Earl  of  Cork."  Boyle  was  a  great 
robber,  but  Broghill  was  a  greater,  and  a  traitor  as 
well.  He  had  served  every  ruling  government  in  turn, 
and  had  always  contrived  to  make  his  subservience 
profitable  to  himself.  He  got  into  the  good  graces  of 
Cromwell  by  the  signal  services  he  rendered  to  his 
cause  in  Ireland,  but  he  was  not  prepared  to  sacrifice 
the  rewards  of  these  services,  the  fair  acres  he  had  laid 
hold  of,  to  any  sentimental  adherence  to  the  Crom- 
wellian principle.  His  treachery  secured  the  Restora- 
tion as  far  as  Ireland  was  concerned  ;  he  played  Monk's 
part  upon  the  Irish  stage.  The  breath  once  out  of 
Cromw^ell's  body,  he  prepared  to  intrigue  for  the  return 
of  Charles.  He  found  an  able  assistant  in  Coote,  the 
cruel  president  of  Connaught.  Charles  rewarded  the 
faithful  Broghill  w^ith  the  confirmation  in  all  his  estates, 
and  the  title  of  Earl  of  Orrery.     Coote  was  confirmed 


230  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

in  his  estates  and  made  Earl  of  Mountrath,  This  worthy 
pair  of  brothers  were  made  Lords-justices  of  Ireland,  and 
in  their  hands  the  settlement  of  the  land  question  was 
practically  left.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  it  was  to  the  in- 
terest of  neither  that  there  should  be  a  general  redis- 
tribution of  land.  They  arranged  an  ingenious  scheme 
by  which  only  those  who  proved  themselves  "  innocent " 
of  a  certain  series  of  offences  should  be  reinstated.  No 
man  was  to  be  held  "innocent"  who  had  not  belonged 
to  the  royal  party  before  1643,  or  who  had  been  en- 
gaged in  the  confederacy  before  1648,  or  who  had  ad- 
hered to  the  party  of  the  papal  nuncio.  Lest  this  might 
not  sufficiently  limit  the  list  of  the  "  innocent,"  it  was 
decided  that  no  one  deriving  his  title  from  such  offend- 
ers, and  no  one  who  played  a  merely  passive  part,  liv- 
ing, that  is  to  say,  on  his  estate,  and  leaning  neither  to 
the  one  side  nor  the  other,  should  be  allowed  to  regain 
the  lands  he  had  lost.  This  system  was  so  well  worked 
that  except  in  the  rarest  cases  the  plundered  Irish  were 
unable  to  get  back  an  acre  of  land  from  the  new  men. 
Ormonde  and  a  few  others  were  restored  at  once  to  their 
estates  and  honors  without  any  difficulty,  and  the  rest 
were  left  as  they  were. 

Ormonde  was  made  Lord-Lieutenant,  and  once  again 
showed  that  he  was  not  strong  enough  for  his  stormy 
times.  He  opposed,  but  could  not  prevent,  the  efforts 
of  the  English  Cabal  to  prohibit  the  importation  of 
Irish  cattle  as  a  nuisance.  The  Cabal  found  no  dif- 
ficulty in  carrying  their  point ;  their  only  difficulty  was 
whether  they  should  describe  the  obnoxious  importa- 
tion as  a  "detriment"  or  a  '*  nuisance,"  a  difficulty 
which  Clarendon  satirically  proposed  to  meet  by  sug- 
gesting that  it  might  as  fittingly  be  called  *' adultery." 
When  the  cattle  trade  was  put  down,  Ormonde  (he  was 
now  duke  of  that  name)  did  his  best  to  advance  the 
Irish  woollen  and  linen  trades,  but  these  efforts  ren- 
dered him  hateful  to  the  Cabal,  and  he  was  removed 
from  office.  For  long  enough  he  lingered  in  disgrace, 
attending  at  Charles's  court  in  London,  and  quietly  en- 
during the  insults  that  Charles  and  his  favorites  put 
upon  him,  and  the  dangers  of  assassination  to  which 
his  enemies  exposed  him.  At  length  he  was  restored 
to  the  Irish  Lord-lieutenantship,  and  the  record  of  his 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  231 

last  administration  is  chiefly  a  record  of  measures 
against  the  Roman  Catholics.  Charles,  indeed,  was 
anxious  to  allow  the  Catholics  as  much  toleration  as 
possible,  but  the  fury  of  the  Titus  Gates  Plot  found  its 
echo  across  the  Irish  Sea.  Ormonde's  nature  w^as  not 
one  which  lent  itself  to  excesses  of  any  kind,  but  he 
was  strongly  anti-Catholic,  and  to  him  is  due  the  dis- 
honor of  sending  Plunket,  the  Archbishop  of  Armagh, 
to  his  trial  and  death  in  England,  a  "  murder  "  which, 
as  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith  says,  "has  left  a  deep  stain  on 
the  ermine  of  English  justice." 

With  James's  accession  the  treatment  of  the  Catho- 
lics changed  considerably.  Ormonde  was  recalled  to 
end  his  days  in  peaceful  retirement,  and  his  place  was 
taken  by  a  new  and  remarkable  figure,  the  bearer  of 
an  historic  name.  This  new  man  was  James  Talbot, 
Earl  of  Tyrconnel.  He  was,  while  a  boy,  in  Drogheda 
during  the  Cromwellian  sack,  and  the  memory  of  that 
fearful  hour  was  always  with  him.  He  had  followed 
the  Stuarts  into  exile  ;  he  was  the  first  Roman  Catho- 
lic Governor  of  Ireland  appointed  since  the  introduc- 
tior  of  the  Protestant  religion.  He  did  his  best  to 
undo  the  severe  anti-Catholic  legislation  which  marked 
Ormonde's  last  administration.  That  he,  a  Catholic 
and  an  Irishman,  should  wish  to  see  justice  and  reli- 
gious liberty  allowed  to  his  countrymen  and  the  com- 
panions of  his  faith,  has  made  his  name  too  often  the 
object  of  the  obloquy  and  the  scorn  of  historians  who 
are  unwilling  to  see  liberty,  either  political  or  religious, 
enjoyed  by  any  but  themselves  and  their  own  peole  or 
party.  The  war  between  James  and  William  of  Orange 
found  the  Catholics  in  Ireland  entirely  on  the  Stuart 
side,  though  more  for  the  sake  of  Talbot  of  Tyrconnel 
than  of  the  English  monarch.  Talbot  might  have  said 
of  himself,  like  Shakespeare's  English  Talbot,  that  he 
w^as  ''but  shadow  of  himself,"  and  that  ''his  substance, 
sinews,  arms,  and  strength  "  lay  in  the  Irish  Catholics 
who  rallied  round  him  as  they  had  before  rallied  round 
an  earlier  wearer  of  the  name  of  Tyrconnel.  For  a 
time  it  seemed  as  if  this  Irish  support  might  shoulder 
James  into  his  throne  again,  and  the  king  made  many 
concessions  to  encourage  such  allegiance.  Poynings's 
Act  was  formally  repealed,  and  a  measure  passed  re- 


23^  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Storing  the  dispossessed  Irish  to  their  property.  A 
large  army  came  over  from  France  to  Ireland  to  fight 
for  the  Stuart,  under  command  of  one  of  the  bravest 
and  vainest  soldiers  that  ever  fought  a  field,  St.  Ruth. 
But  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  ruined  alike  the  Stuart 
cause  and  the  hopes  of  its  Irish  adherents.  Ginckel, 
William's  ablest  general,  took  Athlone,  defeated  the 
French  and  Irish  at  Aughrim,  where  the  glorious  and 
vainglorious  St.  Ruth  was  slain,  and  invested  Limerick. 
In  Limerick  Tyrconnel  died,  and  at  Limerick  the  last 
struggle  was  made.  The  city  was  held  by  Patrick  Sars- 
field,  a  brave  Catholic  gentleman  and  gifted  soldier. 
He  defended  Limerick  so  well  against  hopeless  odds 
that  he  was  able  to  wring  from  his  enemies  a  treaty 
providing  that  the  Roman  Catholics  of  Ireland  should 
enjoy  the  privilege  of  religious  freedom,  and  giving 
King  James's  followers  the  right  of  their  estates. 
When  t4ie  treaty  was  signed,  Sarsfield  surrendered  the 
city  and  marched  out  with  all  the  honors  of  war.  Out- 
side the  city  the  flags  of  England  and  France  were  set 
up,  and  the  defenders  of  Limerick  were  offered  their 
choice  of  service  under  either  standard.  Ginckel  had 
the  mortification  of  seeing  the  flower  of  the  army  rally 
beneath  the  lilies -of  Gaul,  only  a  few  regiments  rang- 
ing themselves  beneath  the  English  standard. 

These  Irish  soldiers  did  splendid  service  in  the  land 
to  which  they  gave  their  swords.  Their  names  became 
famous  in  France,  in  Spain,  in  Austria,  and  in  Russia, 
and  on  many  a  field  from  Fontenpy  to  Ramilies  and 
Laufeldt  the  Irish  brigades  fought  out  for  an  alien  cause, 
and  beneath  a  foreign  flag,  the  old  quarrel  of  their  race. 
Sarsfield  himself  died  bravely  at  Landen,  three  years 
after  the  surrender  of  Limerick.  It  is  said  that  the 
dying  man  looked  at  his  hand,  red  with  his  own  blood, 
and  said,  "  Would  God  that  this  were  shed  for  Ireland." 
All  that  he  had  done  for  his  country  had  been  done  in 
vain.  The  treaty  that  he  had  secured  by  his  gallant 
defence  of  Limerick,  the  treaty  that  had  been  con- 
firmed and  even  amplified  by  William  himself,  was 
broken  and  set  aside.  Mr.  Froude  seems  to  think  that 
the  Irish  ought  to  have  been  aware  that  the  English 
could  not  be  expected  to  keep  faith  with  them  over 
such  a  treaty.     To  such  sorry  justification  for  such  a 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  233 

breach  of  faith  there  is  nothing  to  say.  The  treason 
shows  worse  when  it  is  remembered  that  after  the 
treaty  was  signed  an  army  of  reinforcements  arrived  in 
the  Shannon.  Had  these  come  some  days  earlier,  the 
siege  of  Limerick  must  inevitably  have  been  raised. 
Even  as  it  was,  Ginckel  greatly  feared  that  Sarsfield 
might  seize  the  opportunity  to  renew  the  war.  But 
Sarsfield  honorably  abided  by  his  word.  The  treaty 
was  violated  ;  all  the  forfeited  lands  were  reconfiscated 
and  sold  by  auction  as  before,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
state,  to  English  corporations  and  Dublin  merchants. 

At  William's  death  the  Catholics  were  the  owners  of 
less  than  one-seventh  of  the  w^hole  area  of  Ireland. 
William  determined  to  make  Ireland  Protestant  by 
penal  laws.  Under  these  laws  Catholics  could  not  sit 
in  the  Irish  Parliament,  or  vote  members  to  it.  They 
were  excluded  from  the  army  and  navy,  the  corpora- 
tions, the  magistracy,  the  bar,  the  bench,  the  grand 
juries,  and  the  vestries.  They  could  not  be  sheriffs  or 
soldiers,  gamekeepers  or  constables.  They  were  for- 
bidden to  own  any  arms,  and  any  two  justices  or  sheriffs 
might  at  any  time  issue  a  search  warrant  for  arms.  The 
discovery  of  any  kind  of  weapon  rendered  its  Catholic 
owner  liable  to  fines,  imprisonment,  whipping,  or  the 
pillory.  They  could  not  own  a  horse  worth  more  than 
five  pounds,  and  any  Protestant  tendering  that  sum 
could  compel  his  Catholic  neighbor  to  sell  his  steed 
No  education  whatever  was  allowed  to  Catholics.  A 
Catholic  could  not  go  to  the  university  ;  he  might  not 
be  the  guardian  of  a  child  ;  he  might  not  keep  a  school, 
or  send  his  children  to  be  educated  abroad,  or  teach 
himself.  No  Catholic  might  buy  land,  or  inherit,  or 
receive  it  as  a  gift  from  Protestants,  or  hold  life  annui- 
ties or  leases  for  more  than  thirty-one  years,  or  any 
lease  on  such  terms  as  that  the  profits  of  the  land  ex- 
ceeded one-third  the  value  of  the  land.  If  a  Catholic 
purchased  an  estate,  the  first  Protestant  who  informed 
against  him  became  its  proprietor.  The  eldest  son  of 
a  Catholic,  upon  apostatizing,  became  heir  at  law  to 
the  whole  estate  of  his  father,  and  reduced  his  father 
to  the  position  of  a  mere  life  tenant. 

A  wife  who  apostatized  was  immediately  freed  from 
her  husband's  control,  and  assigned  a  certain  propor- 


234  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

tion  of  her  husband's  property.  Any  child,  however 
young,  who  professed  to  be  a  Protestant,  was  at  once 
taken  from  his  father's  care,  and  a  certain  proportion 
of  his  father's  property  assigned  to  him.  In  fact,  the 
CathoHcs  were  exchided,  in  their  own  country,  from 
every  profession,  from  every  government  office  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  and  from  almost  every  duty 
or  privilege  of  a  citizen.  It  was  laid  down  from  the 
bench  by  Lord-chancellor  Bowes  and  Chief-justice 
Robinson  that  "  the  law  does  not  suppose  any  such 
person  to  exist  as  an  Irish  Roman  Catholic,"  and  pro- 
claimed from  the  pulpit  by  Dopping,  Bishop  of  Meath, 
that  Protestants  were  not  bound  to  keep  faith  with  Pa- 
pists. We  are  reminded,  as  we  read,  of  Judge  Taney's 
famous  decision  in  the  American  Dred  Scott  case,  that 
a  black  man  had  no  rights  which  a  white  man  was  bound 
to  respect.  Happily,  humanity  and  civilization  are  in 
the  end  too  much  for  the  Doppings  and  Taneys.  It  is 
hard  for  a  more  enlightened  age  to  believe  that  such 
laws  as  these  were  ever  passed,  or,  being  passed,  were 
ever  practised.  It  was  well  said  that  the  penal  code 
could  not  have  been  practised  in  hell,  or  it  would 
have  over  turned  the  kingdom  of  Beelzebub.  But  these 
laws,  by  which  the  child  was  taught  to  behave  himself 
proudly  against  the  ancient,  and  the  base  against  the 
honorable,  were  rigorously  enforced  in  Ireland.  The 
records  of  the  House  of  Lords  are  full  of  the  vain  ap- 
peals of  Catholic  gentlemen  against  their  dispossession 
by  some  claimant,  perhaps  an  unworthy  member  of  their 
family,  perhaps  a  bitter  enemy,  and  perhaps  a  hither- 
to unknown  "  discoverer,"  who  had  put  on  the  guise  of 
ostentatious  Protestantism  as  a  cloak  for  plunder.  In 
often-quoted,  often-to-be-quoted  words,  Burke,  in  later 
years,  denounced  the  penal  code  for  its  "vicious  per- 
fection." "  For,"  said  he,  "  I  must  do  it  justice  :  it  was 
a  complete  system,  full  of  coherence  and  consistency, 
well  digested  and  well  composed  in  all  its  parts.  It 
was  a  machine  of  wise  and  elaborate  contrivance,  and 
as  well  fitted  for  the  oppression,  impoverishment,  and 
degradation  of  a  people,  and  the  debasement  in  them 
of  human  nature  itself,  as  ever  proceeded  from  the 
perverted  ingenuity  of  man." 

Jt  is  encouraging  to  think  that  even  under  such  laws 


Al/  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  235 

the  spirit  of  the  people  was  not  wholly  annihilated. 
The  country  clung  to  its  proscribed  faith  ;  the  ministers 
of  that  faith  braved  shame  and  persecution  and  death 
in  their  unswerving  allegiance  to  their  scattered  flocks. 
They  fought  bravely  against  the  oppression  which 
would  have  enforced  ignorance  and  all  its  attendant 
evils  upon  an  unhappy  people.  When  no  Catholic 
might  open  a  school,  the  priests  established  what  was 
known  as  hedge  schools.  By  the  roadside  and  on  the  hill- 
side, in  ditches  and  behind  hedges,  the  children  of  the 
people  cowered  about  their  pastors,  fearfully  and  eagerly 
striving  to  attain  that  knowledge  which  the  harsh  laws 
denied  them.  In  one  other  instance  the  penal  laws 
failed.  They  could  take  away  the  Catholic's  land,  his 
horse,  his  life  ;  they  could  hang  his  priests  and  burn 
his  place  of  worship  ;  they  could  refuse  him  all  educa- 
tion ;  they  could  deny  him  all  rights  before  the  law  ex- 
cept the  right  to  be  robbed  and  hanged  ;  but  they  could 
not  compel  him  to  change  his  faith,  and  they  could  not 
succeed  in  making  every  Protestant  in  Ireland  a  willing 
creature  of  the  new  code.  By  the  code,  any  marriage 
between  a  Catholic  and  a  Protestant  was,  by  the  fact 
of  the  husband  and  wife  being  of  opposite  faiths,  null 
and  void,  without  any  process  of  law  whatever.  A  man 
might  leave  his  wife,  or  a  woman  her  husband,  after 
twenty  years  of  marriage,  in  such  a  case,  and  bring  a 
legal  bastardy  on  all  their  offspring.  But,  for  the  sake 
of  human  honor,  it  is  consolatory  to  remember  that  the 
instances  in  which  this  ever  occurred  were  very  rare. 
The  law  might  sanction  the  basest  treachery,  but  it  is 
not  able  to  make  its  subjects  treacherous. 

The  evils  of  the  penal  code  w^ere  further  supple- 
mented by  the  statutory  destruction  of  Irish  trade. 
Under  Charles  I.,  Strafford  had  done  his  best  to  ruin 
the  Irish  woollen  manufacturers  in  order  to  benefit  the 
English  clothiers.  Under  Charles  II.,  the  importation 
of  Irish  cattle  or  sheep  or  swine  was  prohibited.  In 
1663  Ireland  was  left  out  of  the  act  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  trade,  so  that  all  the  carrying  trade  in  Irish- 
built  ships  with  any  part  of  his  majesty's  dominions 
was  prevented.  But  it  was  left  to  William  to  do  the 
worst.  In  1696  all  direct  trade  from  Ireland  with  the 
British  colonies  was  forbidden,  and  a  revival  of  the 


236  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

woollen  trade  was  crushed  out  by  an  act  which  pro- 
hibited the  export  of  Irish  wool  or  woollen  goods  from 
any  Irish  port  except  Cork,  Drogheda,  Dublin,  Kin- 
sale,  Waterford,  and  Youghal,  to  any  port  in  the  world 
except  Milford,  Chester,  Liverpool,  and  certain  ports 
in  the  British  Channel,  under  a  penaly  of  ;^5oo  and 
the  forfeiture  of  both  ship  and  cargo. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

THE    EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY. 


It  has  been  happily  said  that  Ireland  has  no  history 
during  the  greater  part  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
What  Burke  called  "  the  ferocious  legislation  of  Queen 
Anne  "  had  done  its  work  of  humiliation  to  the  full. 
For  a  hundred  years  the  country  was  crushed  into 
quiescent  misery.  Against  the  tyranny  which  made 
war  at  once  upon  their  creed,  their  intellect,  and  their 
trade,  the  Irish  had  no  strength  to  struggle ;  neither  in 
1 7 15,  nor  in  1745,  did  the  Irish  Catholics  raise  a  hand 
for  the  Pretenders.  The  evidence  of  Arthur  Young 
shows  how  terribly  the  condition  of  the  peasantry  had 
sunk  when  he  is  able  to  state  that  "  Landlords  of  con- 
sequence have  assured  me  that  many  of  their  cotters 
would  think  themselves  honored  by  having  their  wives 
and  daughters  sent  for  to  the  bed  of  their  masters  ;  a 
mark  of  slavery  which  proves  the  oppression  under 
which  such  people  must  live."  To  add  to  the  wretched- 
ness of  the  people,  a  terrible  famine  ravaged  the  coun- 
try in  1 741,  the  horrors  of  which  almost  rival,  in  ghast- 
liness,  those  of  the  famine  of  1847.  Great  numbers 
died  ;  great  numbers  fled  from  the  seemingly  accursed 
country  to  recruit  the  armies  of  the  Continent,  and 
found  death  less  dreadful  on  many  well-fought  fields 
than  in  the  shape  of  plague  or  famine  in  their  own 
land.  Such  elements  of  degradation  and  despair  natur- 
ally begot  all  sorts  of  secret  societies  among  the  peas- 
antry from  north  to  south.    White-boys,  Oak-boys,  and 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  'i'^ 

Hearts  of  Steel  banded  against  the  land  tyranny,  and 
held  together  for  long  enough  in  spite  of  the  strenuous 
efforts  of  the  government  to  put  them  down.  If  the 
military  force,  said  Lord  Chesterfield,  ''  liad  killed  half 
as  many  landlords  as  it  had  White-boys,  it  would  have 
contributed  more  effectually  to  restore  quiet ;  for  the 
poor  people  in  Ireland  are  worse  used  than  negroes  by 
their  masters,  and  deputies  of  deputies." 

Bad  as  the  condition  of  Ireland  was,  the  English  in 
Ireland  proposed  to  make  it  worse  by  depriving  it  of 
what  poor  remains  of  legislative  independence  it  still 
possessed.  So  early  as  1 703,  a  petition  in  favor  of  union 
with  England,  and  the  abolition  of  the  Irish  Parliament, 
was  presented  to  Queen  Anne  ;  its  prayer  was  rejected 
for  the  time,  but  the  idea  was  working  in  the  minds  of 
those — and  they  w^ere  many — who  wished  to  see  Ireland 
stripped  of  all  pretence  at  independence  afforded  by 
the  existence  of  a  separate  Parliament,  even  though 
that  Parliament  were  entirely  Protestant.  Seventeen 
years  later,  in  the  sixth  year  of  George  I.,  a  vigorous 
blow  was  dealt  at  the  independence  of  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment by  an  act  which  not  only  deprived  the  Irish  House 
of  Lords  of  any  appellate  jurisdiction,  but  declared  that 
the  English  Parliament  had  the  right  to  make  laws  to 
bind  the  people  of  the  kindom  of  Ireland.  The  "  heads 
of  a  bill  "  might  indeed  be  brought  in  in  either  house. 
If  agreed  to,  they  were  carried  to  the  Viceroy,  who  gave 
them  to  his  Privy  Council  to  alter  if  they  chose,  and 
send  to  England.  They  were  subject  to  alteration  by 
the  English  Attorney-general,  and,  when  approved  by 
the  English  Privy  Council,  sent  back  to  Ireland,  where 
the  Irish  Houses  could  either  accept  or  reject  them 
in  toto,  but  had  no  power  to  change  them. 

The  condition  of  the  Irish  Parliament  all  through 
the  eighteenth  century  is  truly  pitiable.  Its  existence 
as  a  legislative  body  is  a  huge  sham,  a  ghastly  simula- 
crum. It  slowly  drifted  into  the  custom  of  sitting  but 
once  in  every  two  years,  to  vote  the  money  bills  for  the 
next  two  twelvemonths.  The  Irish  exchequer  derived 
half  its  receipts  from  the  Restoration  grant  of  the  ex- 
cise and  customs  ;  and  the  greater  part  of  this  money 
was  wasted  upon  royal  mistresses,  upon  royal  bastards, 
and  upon  royal  nominees.     The  Parliament  was  torn 


238  •  AN-  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

by  factions,  which  the  English  government  ingeniously 
played  off  against  each  other  ;  it  was  crowded  with  the 
supple  placemen  of  the  government,  who  were  well  re- 
warded for  their  obedient  votes ;  the  bulk  of  the 
House  was  made  up  of  nominees  of  the  Protestant 
landlords.  The  Opposition  could  never  turn  out  the 
Administration,  for  the  Administration  was  composed 
of  the  irremovable  and  irresponsible  Lords-justices  of 
the  Privy  Council  and  certain  officers  of  state.  The 
Opposition,  such  as  it  was,  was  composed  of  Jacobites, 
who  dreamed  of  a  Stuart  restoration,  and  of  a  few  men 
animated  by  a  patriotic  belief  in  their  country's  rights. 
These  men  were  imbued  with  the  principles  which  had 
been  set  forth  in  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century 
by  William  Molyneux,  the  friend  of  Locke,  who,  in  his 
"  Case  of  Ireland,"  was  the  first  to  formulate  Ireland's 
constitutional  claim  to  independent  existence.  His 
book  was  burned  by  the  English  Parliament,  but  the 
doctrines  it  set  forth  wxre  not  to  be  so  destroyed. 
During  the  reigns  of  the  first  two  Georges,  the  Patriot 
Party  had  the  support  of  the  gloomy  genius  and  the 
fierce  indignation  of  the  man  w^hose  name  is  coupled 
with  that  of  Molyneux  in  the  opening  sentences  of 
Grattan's  famous  speech  on  the  triumph  of  Irish  inde- 
pendence. Swift,  weary  of  English  parties,  full  of 
melancholy  memories  of  St.  John  and  Harley  and  the 
scattered  Tory  chiefs,  had  come  back  to  Ireland  to  try 
his  fighting  soul  in  the  troublous  confusion  of  Irish 
politics.  It  has  been  asserted  over  and  over  again  that 
Swift  had  very  little  real  love  for  the  country  of  his 
birth.  Whether  he  loved  Ireland  or  not  is  little  to  the 
purpose,  for  he  did  her  very  sterling  service.  He  was 
the  first  to  exhort  Ireland  to  use  her  own  manufactures, 
and  he  was  unsuccessfully  prosecuted  by  the  State  for 
the  pamphlet  in  which  he  gave  this  advice.  When 
Wood  received  the  authority  of  the  English  Parliament 
to  deluge  Ireland  with  copper  money  of  his  own  mak- 
ing it  was  Swift's  "  Drapier's  Letters  "  which  made 
Wood  and  his  friends  the  laughing-stock  of  the  world, 
and  averted  the  evil.  In  Swift's  ''  Modest  Proposal  " 
we  have  the  most  valuable  evidence  of  the  misery  of 
the  country.  He  suggests,  with  savage  earnestness, 
that  the  children  of  the  Irish  peasant  should  be  reared 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  239 

for  food  ;  and  urges  that  the  best  of  these  should  be 
reserved  for  the  landlords,  who,  as  they  had  already 
devoured  the  substance  of  the  people,  had  the  best 
right  to  devour  the  flesh  of  their  children. 

Even  as  the  most  conspicuous  supporter  of  the  Irish 
interest  during  the  first  half  of  the  century  was  the 
Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  the  two  most  remarkable  sup- 
porters of  the  English  ''interest"  in  Ireland  in  the 
eighteenth  century  were  both  Churchmen,  the  Primate 
Boulter  and  the  Primate  Stone.  Compared  to  Stone, 
Boulter  appears  an  honest  and  honorable  man.  He 
was  only  shallow,  arrogant,  and  capricious,  quite  in- 
capable of  the  slightest  sympathy  with  any  people  or 
party  but  his  own — a  man  of  some  statesmanship, 
which  was  entirely  at  the  service  of  the  government, 
and  which  never  allowed  him  to  make  any  considera- 
tion for  the  wants,  the  wishes  or  the  sufferings  of  the 
Irish  people.  Perhaps  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  him 
is,  that  while  belonging  to  the  English  Church  he  did 
not  wholly  neglect  its  teachings  and  its  duties,  or  live  a 
life  in  direct  defiance  of  its  commands,  which  is  saying 
a  good  deal  for  such  a  man  in  such  a  time.  So  much 
cannot  be  said  of  his  successor  in  the  headship  of  the 
Irish  ecclesiastical  system.  Primate  Stone.  The  grand- 
son of  a  jailer,  he  might  have  deserved  admiration  for 
his  rise  if  he  had  not  carried  with  him  into  the  high 
places  of  the  Church  a  spirit  stained  by  most  of  the 
crimes  over  which  his  ancestor  was  appointed  warder. 
In  an  age  of  corrupt  politics,  he  was  conspicuous  as  a 
corrupt  politician  ;  in  a  profligate  epoch,  he  was  emi- 
nent for  profligacy.  In  the  basest  days  of  the  Roman 
Empire  he  would  have  been  remarkable  for  the  variety 
of  his  sins  ;  and  the  grace  of  his  person,  which  caused 
him  to  be  styled  in  savage  mockery  the  ''  Beauty  of 
Holiness,"  coupled  with  his  ingenuity  in  pandering  to 
the  passions  of  his  friends,  would  have  made  him  a 
serious  rival  to  Petronius  at  the  court  of  Nero. 

The  year  that  Swift  died,  1745,  was  the  first  year  of 
the  viceroyalty  of  Lord  Chesterfield,  one  of  the  few 
bright  spots  in  the  dark  account  of  Ireland  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  If  all  viceroys  had  been  as  calm,  as 
reasonable,  and  as  considerate  as  the  author  of  the 
famous  "  Letters"  showed  himself  to  be  in  his  dealings 


240  AN    OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

with  the  people  over  whom  he  was  placed,  the  history 
of  the  succeeding  century  and  a  half  might  have  been 
very  different.  But  when  Chesterfield's  viceroyalty 
passed  away,  the  temperate  policy  he  pursued  passed 
away  as  well,  and  has  seldom  been  resumed  by  the 
long  succession  of  viceroys  who  have  governed  and 
misgoverned  the  country  since. 

In  the  meanwhile,  a  new  spirit  was  gradually  coming 
over  the  country.  Lucas,  the  first  Irishman,  in  the 
words  of  the  younger  Grattan,  "  who,  after  Swift,  dared 
to  write  freedom,"  had  founded  Xh^  Freejtiafi's  Journal, 
a  journal  which  ventured  in  dangerous  times  to  ad- 
vocate the  cause  of  the  Irish  people,  and  to  defy  the 
anger  of  the  English  '' interest."  In  the  first  number, 
which  appeared  on  Saturday-,  September  lo,  1763,  and 
which  bore  an  engraving  of  Hibernia  with  a  wreath  in 
her  right  hand  and  a  rod  in  her  left,  Lucas  boldly  ad- 
vocated the  duty  and  dignity  of  a  free  press,  and  de- 
nounced under  the  guise  Of  "  Turkish  Tyranny,"  "  The 
Tyranny  of  French  Despotism,"  and  "  The  Ten  Tyrants 
of  Rome,"  the  ministries  and  the  creature  whom  his 
unsparing  eloquence  assailed.  The  Patriot  Party,  too, 
was  rapidly  increasing  its  following  and  its  influence 
in  the  country.  The  patriotic  party  in  Parliament  had 
found  a  brilliant  leader  in  Henry  Flood,  a  gifted  poli- 
tician, who  thought  himself  a  poet,  and  who  was  cer- 
tainly an  orator.  Flood  was  the  son  of  the  Irish  Chief- 
justice  of  the  King's  Bench.  He  had  been  educated  at 
Trinity  College  and  at  Oxford,  and  much  of  his  youth 
was  devoted  to  the  study  of  oratory  and  the  pursuit  of 
poetry.  He  wrote  an  ode  to  Fame,  which  was  perhaps 
as  unlucky  in  reaching  its  address  as  that  poem  to 
Posterity  of  which  poor  Jean  Baptiste  Rousseau  was  so 
proud.  But  his  oratory  was  a  genuine  gift,  which  he 
carefully  cultivated.  We  hear  of  his  learning  speeches 
of  Cicero  by  heart,  and  writing  out  long  passages  of 
Demosthenes  and  ^^schines.  His  character  was  kindly, 
sweet-tempered,  and  truthful.  He  Avas  ambitious  be- 
cause he  was  a  man  of  genius,  but  his  ambition  was  for 
his  country  rather  than  for  himself,  and  he  served  her 
wath  a  daring  spirit,  which  only  the  profound  states- 
manlike qualities  of  his  intellect  prevented  from  be- 
coming reckless.     In   1759,  then  in  his  twenty-seventh 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  241 

year,  a  married  man  with  a  large  fortune,  he  entered 
public  life,  never  to  leave  it  till  the  end  of  his  career. 
He  came  into  Parliament  as  member  for  Kilkenny,  and 
almost  immediately  became  a  prominent  member  of 
the  Opposition.  His  m.aiden  speech  was  a  vigorous 
attack  upon  the  corrupt  and  profligate  Primate  Stone. 
In  the  hands  of  Flood,  ably  seconded  by  Charles 
Lucas,  the  Opposition  began  to  take  shape,  and  to  be- 
come a  serious  political  power.  Under  his  brilliant 
and  skilful  chieftainship,  the  ''  Patriots,"  as  the  party 
who  followed  him  were  called  in  scorn  by  their  ene- 
mies, and  in  admiration  by  their  allies,  made  repeated 
assaults  upon  the  hated  pension  list.  After  they  had 
been  defeated  again  and  again,  Flood  found  a  more 
successful  means  of  harassing  the  Administration  by 
turning  the  attention  of  his  party  to  parliamentary  re- 
form. The  time  was  well  chosen.  The  English  gov- 
ernment was  beginning  to  be  troubled  by  its  own 
greedy  placemen,  who  were  always  ready  to  go  with 
light  hearts  into  the  Opposition  lobby  if  they  could  not 
squeeze  all  they  wanted  out  of  the  government.  By 
taking  advantage  of  the  discontent  of  placemen,  the 
Patriots  were  able  to  induce  the  House  to  declare  that 
they  alone  had  the  right  to  initiate  a  money  bill,  and 
to  refuse  to  accept  a  money  bill  brought  in  by  the 
English  or  Irish  Privy  Council.  It  is  bitterly  to  be 
regretted  that  Flood  allowed  himself  to  be  led  away 
from  the  Patriot  Party,  and  to  accept  a  government 
sinecure.  There  is  no  need  to  doubt  that  when  Flood 
accepted  the  office  of  vice-treasurer  he  believed  that  he 
was  acting  on  the  whole  in  the  interests  of  the  cause 
he  represented.  He  had  just  made  a  great  political 
triumph.  He  had  driven  out  of  office  a  most  obnox- 
ious and  unpopular  lord-lieutenant,  Lord  Townsend, 
and  Townsend's  place  had  been  taken  by  Lord  Har- 
court,  a  reasonable  and  able  man,  who  seemed  likely 
to  be  in  sympathy  with  Flood's  views  as  to  the  inde- 
pendence of  Parliament.  Flood  may  well  be  assumed 
to  have  reasoned  that  a  place  under  government  would 
offer  him  greater  opportunities  for  urging  his  cause. 
But,  whatever  his  reasons,  the  step  was  fatally  ill-ad- 
vised ;  he  lost  the  confidence  of  the  country,  and  ruined 
his  position  as  leader.     But  this  was  the  less  to  be  re- 


242  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

gretted  that  it  gave  his  place  as  leader  of  the  Patriot 
Party  to  a  greater  orator  and  a  nobler  man — to  Henry 
Grattan. 

Grattan  was  born  in  1750,  in  Dublin.  His  years  of 
early  manhood  were  passed  in  London,  studying  for 
the  bar.  Like  Flood,  he  believed  himself  destined  to 
be  a  poet  ;  but  when,  in  1775,  he  was  nominated  to 
represent  Charlemont  in  the  Irish  Parliament  by  the 
owner  of  the  borough,  Lord  Charlemont,  he  discovered 
where  his  real  genius  lay.  He  and  Flood  had  been 
close  friends  and  political  allies  until  Flood's  acceptance 
of  the  vice-treasurership.  This  seemed  to  Grattan  the 
basest  political  apostasy.  The  alliance  between  the 
two  orators  was  definitely  broke  off;  the  friendship 
was  finally  severed  in  the  fierce  discussion  that  took 
place  between  them  in  the  House  of  Commons  some 
years  later,  when  Flood  tauntingly  described  Grattan 
as  a  *'  mendicant  patriot,"  and  Grattan  painted  Flood 
as  a  traitor  in  one  of  the  most  crushing  and  pitiless 
pieces  of  invective  that  have  ever  belonged  to  oratory. 
Such  a  quarrel  between  such  men  was  the  more  to  be 
regretted  because  each  had  the  same  end  in  view,  and 
each  had  special  qualifications  for  furthering  that  end 
which  were  not  possessed  by  the  other. 

Grattan  Avas  now  leader  of  the  Patriots.  It  was  his 
ambition  to  secure  legislative  independence  for  the 
Irish  Parliament.  The  war  with  the  American  colo- 
nies gave  him  the  opportunity  of  realizing  his  ambi- 
tion. A  large  force  of  Volunteers  had  been  organized 
in  Ireland  to  defend  the  island  from  the  attacks  of  the 
terrible  Paul  Jones,  and  the  Volunteers  and  their  lead- 
ers were  all  in  sympathy  with  the  Patriot  Party.  For 
the  first  time  since  the  surrender  of  Limerick  there  was 
an  armed  force  in  Ireland  able  and  willing  to  sustain 
the  national  cause.  There  were  60,000  men  under 
arms,  under  the  leadership  of  the  gifted  and  patriotic 
Lord  Charlemont.  Among  their  leaders  were  Flood 
himself  and  Henry  Grattan.  The  Volunteers  formed 
themselves  into  an  organized  convention  for  the  pur- 
pose ot  agitating  the  national  grievances.  Grattan  was 
not,  indeed,  a  member  of  this  convention,  but  he  saw 
that  with  the  existence  of  the  Volunteers  had  come  the 
hour  to  declare  the  independence  of  the  Irish  Parliament, 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  243 

and  he  seized  upon  the  opportunity.  He  had  an  army 
at  his  back  ;  the  English  government  was  still  striving 
with  "Mr.  Washington"  and  his  rebels,  and  it  had  to 
give  way.  All  that  Grattan  asked  for  was  granted  ; 
the  hateful  Act  of  the  6th  George  I.  was  repealed,  and 
Grattan  was  able  to  address  a  free  people  and  wish 
Ireland  as  a  nation  a  perpetual  existence. 

But  now  that  the  desires  of  the  Patriot  Party  had 
been  apparently  fulfilled,  by  a  curious  example  of  the 
law  of  historical  reaction  the  popularity  of  Grattan 
began  to  wane,  and  that  of  Flood  to  wax  anew.  The 
English  hold  over  the  Irish  Parliament  had  been  based 
first  upon  Poynings's  Act,  and  then  upon  a  Declaratory 
Act  asserting  the  dependence  of  the  Irish  Parliament. 
It  was  this  Declaratory  Act  that  Grattan,  aided  by  the 
Volunteers,  had  caused  to  be  repealed,  and  he  and  his 
party  contended  that  by  this  repeal  England  resigned 
her  right  over  the  Irish  Parliament.  Flood  and  his 
friends  maintained  that  the  repeal  of  the  Declaratory 
Act  was  not  enough,  and  they  would  not  rest  until  they 
had  obtained  a  fuller  and  more  formal  Renunciation 
Act.  There  were  other  differences  between  Flood  and 
Grattan.  Grattan  was  all  in  favor  of  the  disbandment 
and  dispersal  of  the  Volunteers.  Flood  was  for  still 
keeping  them  in  armed  existence.  Grattan  had  urged 
that  their  work  had  been  done,  and  that  their  presence 
was  a  praetorian  menace  to  the  newly  acquired  liberties. 
Flood  believed  that  their  co-operation  was  still  needful 
for  the  further  securing  of  Irish  liberty.  Yet  it  is  curi- 
ous to  remember  that  Grattan  was  the  advocate  of 
Catholic  Emancipation,  and  that  Flood  was  strenuously 
opposed  to  it.  Grattan  carried  his  point,  and  the  Vol- 
unteers disbanded  and  dispersed,  very  much  to  the  dis- 
appointment of  Flood  and  the  indignation  of  one  of  the 
most  curious  political  figures  of  the  time,  and  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  of  the  many  remarkable  ecclesias- 
tics who  played  a  part  in  this  period  of  Irish  history. 
This  was  the  Earl  of  Bristol  and  Bishop  of  Derry, 
a  son  of  the  Lord  Hervey  whom  Pope  strove  to 
make  eternally  infamous  by  his  nickname  of  Sporus, 
and  who  had  left  such  living  pictures  of  the  court 
of  the  second  George  in  the  brilliant  malignancy 
of  his  unrivalled   memoirs.     The    bishop    was  a  cul- 


244  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

tured,  desperate  dandy,  a  combination  of  the  typi- 
cal French  abbe  of  the  last  century  with  the  conven- 
tional soldier  of  fortune.  He  loved  gorgeous  dresses  ; 
he  loved  to  be  prominent  in  all  things.  The  Volun- 
teers delighted  his  wild  imagination.  He  fancied  him- 
self the  leader  of  a  great  rebellion,  and  he  babbled  to 
every  one  of  his  scheme  with  ostentatious  folly.  But 
though  he  could  command  popularity  among  the  Vol- 
unteers, he  could  not  command  the  Volunteers  them- 
selves. They  remained  under  the  guidance  of  Charle- 
mont  and  Flood^  and  when  Flood  failed  in  carrying  the 
Volunteer  Reform  Bill  for  enlarging  the  franchise,  the 
Volunteers  peaceably  dissolved.  The  bishop  drifted 
out  of  Dublin,  drifted  into  Naples,  lived  a  wild  life 
there  for  many  years,  became  a  lover  of  Lady  Hamil- 
ton's, and  died  in  Rome  in  1803. 

While  it  lasted  the  free  Irish  Parliament  was  worthy 
of  its  creator.  It  gave  the  Catholics  the  elective  fran- 
chise of  which  they  had  been  so  long  deprived  ;  up  to 
this  time  no  Catholic  had  been  able  to  record  a  vote  in 
favor  of  the  men  who  w^ere  laboring  for  the  liberty  of 
their  country.  There  is  no  doubt  that  it  w^ould  in  time 
have  allowed  Catholics  to  enter  Parliament.  But  the 
efforts  of  Grattan  after  Catholic  Emancipation  failed, 
and  their  failure  strengthened  the  hands  of  the  United 
Irishmen. 

The  name  **  United  Irishmen  "  designated  a  number 
of  men  all  over  the  country,  who  had  formed  them- 
selves into  clubs  for  the  purpose  of  promoting  a  union 
of  friendship  between  Irishmen  of  every  religious  per- 
suasion, and  of  forwarding  a  full,  fair,  and  adequate 
representation  of  all  the  people  in  Parliament.  It  was 
in  the  beginning  a  perfectly  loyal  body,  with  a  Protes- 
tant gentleman,  Mr.  Hamilton  Rowan,  for  its  president. 
James  Napper  Tandy,  a  Protestant  Dublin  trader,  was 
secretary.  The  men  who  created  it  were  well  pleased 
with  the  success  of  Grattan's  efforts  at  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  Irish  Parliament,  but  they  were  deeply 
discontented  at  the  subsequent  disbandment  of  the 
Volunteers  and  Grattan's  comparative  inaction.  The 
simple  repeal  of  the  6th  George  I.  did  not  answer  their 
aspirations  for  liberty,  which  were  encouraged  and  ex- 
cited by  the  outbreak  of  the  French  Revolution.   They 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  245 

found  a  leader  in  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone,  a  young  bar- 
rister, brave,  adventurous,  and  eloquent.  Allied  with 
him  was  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  the  chivalrous,  the 
heroic,  who  had  lived  long  in  France  and  travelled  in 
America,  who  was  devoted  to  two  loves,  his  country 
and  his  beautiful  wife  Pamela,  the  daughter  of  Philippe 
Egalite  and  Madame  de  Genlis.  A  third  leader  was 
Arthur  O'Connor,  Lord  Longueville's  nephew,  and 
member  for  Philipstown.  They  were  all  young  ;  they 
were  all  Protestants  ;  they  were  all  dazzled  by  the  suc- 
cesses of  the  French  Revolution,  and  believed  that  the 
House  of  Hanover  might  be  as  easily  overturned  in 
Ireland  as  the  House  of  Capet  had  been  in  France. 
Wolfe  Tone  went  over  to  Paris  and  pleaded  the  cause 
of  Ireland  with  the  heads  of  the  French  Directory.  His 
eloquence  convinced  them,  and  a  formidable  fleet  was 
sent  over  to  Ireland  under  victorious  Hoche.  But  the 
winds  which  had  destroyed  the  Armg^da  dispersed  the 
French  squadron,  and  no  landing  w^as  effected.  The 
government  was  aroused  and  alarmed  ;  the  plans  of  the 
United  Irishmen  were  betrayed  ;  martial  law  was  pro- 
claimed. Arthur  O'Connor  was  at  once  arrested. 
Edward  Fitzgerald  lay  in  hiding  in  Dublin  for  some 
days  in  a  house  in  Thomas  Street,  but  his  hiding-place 
was  betrayed.  He  defended  himself  desperately  against 
the  soldiers  who  came  to  take  him,  was  severely  wound- 
ed, and  died  of  his  wounds  in  prison.  The  room  is 
still  shown  in  which  the  '^  gallant  and  seditious  Geral- 
dine  "  met  his  death  ;  it  is  very  small,  and  the  struggle 
must  have  been  doubly  desperate  in  the  narrow  space. 
It  is  a  dismal  little  theatre  for  the  tragedy  that  was 
played  in  it. 

Before  the  rebellion  broke  out,  soldiers  and  yeomen, 
who  were  generally  Orangemen  of  the  most  bitter  kind, 
were  sent  to  live  at  free  quarters  among  the  peasants  in 
every  place  where  any  possible  disaffection  was  suspect- 
ed, and  the  licentiousness  and  brutal  cruelty  of  these 
men  did  much  to  force  hundreds  of  peasants  into  the 
rising,  and  to  prompt  the  fierce  retaliation  which  after- 
wards characterized  some  episodes  of  the  rebellion. 
The  troops  and  yeomen  flogged,  picketed,  and  tortured 
with  pitch-caps  the  unhappy  men,  and  violated  the  un- 
happy women,   who  were  at  their  mercy.     The   Irish 


246  AN'  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

historian  would  indeed  be  fortunate  who  could  write 
that  on  the  Irish  side  the  struggle  was  disgraced  \)j  no 
such  crimes.  Unhappily  this  cannot  be  said.  Here  it 
cannot  be  better  than  to  speak  in  Mr.  Lecky's  words  : 
"  Of  the  atrocities  committed  by  the  rebels  during  the 
bloody  month  when  the  rebellion  was  at  its  height,  it  is 
difficult  to  speak  too  strongly,"  but  he  goes  on  to  say — 
he  is  criticizing  Mr.  Froude — "an  impartial  historian 
would  not  have  forgotten  that  they  were  perpetrated  by 
undisciplined  men,  driven  to  madness  by  a  long  course 
of  savage  cruelties,  and  in  most  cases  without  the  knowl- 
edge or  approval  of  their  leaders  ;  that  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  struggle  the  yeomen  rarely  gave  quarter  to 
the  rebels  ;  that  with  the  one  horrible  exception  of  Scul- 
labogue  the  rebels  in  their  treatment  of  women  con- 
trasted most  favorably  and  most  remarkably  with  the 
troops,  and  that  one  of  the  earliest  episodes  of  the 
struggle  was  the  butchery  near  Kildare  of  350  insurgents 
who  had  surrendered  on  the  express  promise  that  their 
lives  should  be  spared." 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind,  in  considering  the  re- 
bellion of  1798,  that  the  struggle  is  not  to  be  consid- 
ered as  a  struggle  of  creed  against  creed.  Protestants 
began  and  organized  the  movement,  and  it  is  estimated 
by  Madden  that  among  the  leaders  of  the  United  Irish- 
men Catholics  were  only  in  the  proportion  of  one  to 
four  throughout  the  rebellion.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
large  number  of  Catholics  were  strongly  opposed  to 
the  rebellion,  and  in  many  cases  took  active  measures 
against  it.  In  Wexford,  unhappily,  the  efforts  of  the 
Orangemen  succeeded  in  giving  the  struggle  there  much 
of  the  character  of  a  religious  war,  but  this  the  revo- 
lution, looked  at  as  a  whole,  never  was.  It  was  a  na- 
tional movement,  an  uprising  against  intolerable  griev- 
ances, and  it  was  sympathized  with  and  supported  by 
Irishmen  of  all  religious  denominations,  bound  together 
by  common  injuries  and  a  common  desire  to  redress 
them. 

The  great  insurrection  which  was  to  have  shattered 
the  power  of  England  was  converted  into  a  series  of 
untimely,  abortive,  local  risings,  of  which  the  most  suc- 
cessful took  place  in  Wexford.  The  rebels  fought 
bravely,  but  the  cause  was  now  hopeless.     The  Catho 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  247 

lie  clergy  came  fearlessly  to  the  front  ;  many  of  the 
little  bands  of  rebels  were  led  into  action  by  priests  of 
the  Church.  Father  John  Murphy,  Father  Philip 
Roche,  and  Father  Michael  Murphy  were  among  the 
bravest  and  ablest  of  the  revolutionary  leaders.  Father 
Michael  Murphy  was  long  believed  by  his  men  to  be 
invulnerable,  but  he  was  killed  by  a  cannon-ball  in  the 
fight  by  Arklow.  Father  Philip  Roche  also  died  on 
the  field.  Father  John  Murphy,  less  happy,  was  cap- 
tured and  died  on  the  gallows  ;  so  died  Bagenal  Harvey, 
of  Barry  Castle,  and  Anthony  Perry,  both  Protestant 
gentlemen  of  fortune  who  had  been  forced  into  the  re- 
bellion, the  one  by  government  suspicion,  the  other  by 
imprisonment,  cruelty,  and  torture.  The  revolution 
was  crushed  out  with  pitiless  severity,  until  the  deeds 
of  the  English  soldiers  and  yeomanry  became  hateful 
in  the  eyes  of  the  viceroy  himself,  Lord  Cornwallis. 
''  The  conversation,"  he  writes  in  a  letter  to  General 
Ross,  "  of  the  principal  persons  of  the  country  all 
tends  to  encourage  the  system  of  blood  ;  and  the  con- 
versation, even  at  my  table,  where  you  will  suppose  I 
do  all  I  can  to  prevent  it,  always  turns  on  hanging, 
shooting,  burning,  etc.,  and  if  a  priest  has  been  put  to 
death  the  greatest  joy  is  expressed  by  the  whole  com- 
pany. So  much  for  Ireland  and  my  wretched  situa- 
tion." 

Cornwallis  acted  mercifully.  He  proclaimed  pardon 
to  all  insurgents  guilty  of  rebellion  only  who  should 
surrender  their  arms  and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance. 
Of  the  state  prisoners,  the  two  brothers  Sheares  were 
hanged  ;  McCann  was  hanged  ;  Oliver  Bond  died  in 
New^gate  ;  O'Connor,  Thomas  Addis  Emmet  and  Mc- 
Nevin  were  banished. 

The  insurrection  was  not  quite  over  when  a  small 
French  force,  under  General  Humbert,  landed  in  Kil- 
lala  Bay  and  entered  Longford.  But  Humbert  was 
surrounded-  by  the  Engish  under  Cornwallis  and  Gen- 
eral Lake  at  Ballinamuck,  and  surrendered  at  discre- 
tion. The  French  were  treated  as  prisoners  of  war, 
but  the  insurgent  peasantry  were  slaughtered  without 
quarter. 

There  was  still  one  more  scene  in  the  drama  of  '98. 
A  French  squadron,  under  General   Hardi,  sailed  for 


248  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Ireland,  but  was  attacked  by  an  English  squadron,  and 
hopelessly  defeated.  Wolfe  Tone,  who  was  on  board 
the  principal  vessel,  the  Hoche^  was  captured  with  the 
rest,  and  entertained  with  the  French  officers  at  Lord 
Cavan's  house  at  Lough  Swilly.  Here  a  treacherous 
friend  recognized  him  and  addressed  him  by  his  name. 
Tone  was  too  proud  to  affect  concealment.  He  was  at 
once  sent  in  irons  to  Dublin,  and  tried  by  court-mar- 
tial ;  he  asked  in  vain  for  a  soldier's  death  ;  he  was  con- 
demned to  be  hanged,  but  he  cut  his  throat  in  prison. 
The  wound  was  not  mortal,  and  he  would  have  been 
hanged,  had  not  Curran  moved  in  the  King's  Bench 
for  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus,  on  the  ground  that  a 
court-martial  had  no  jurisdiction  while  the  Law  Courts 
were  still  sitting  in  Dublin.  The  writ  was  granted, 
and  Tone  died  a  lingering  death  in  prison. 

Wolfe  Tone  was  buried  in  Bodenstown,  not  far  from 
the  little  village  of  Sallins,  some  eighteen  miles  from 
Dublin.  Thomas  Davis  has  devoted  one  of  his  finest 
lyrics  to  the  green  grave  in  Bodenstown  church- 
yard, with  the  winter  wind  raving  about  it  and  the 
storm  sweeping  down  on  the  plains  of  Kildare.  The 
melancholy  music  of  Davis's  verse  is  well  suited  to  the 
desolate  and  deserted  grass-grown  graveyard  and  the 
little  lonely  church,  ruined  and  roofless,  and  thickly 
grown  with  ivy,  with  the  grave  on  the  side  away  from 
the  road.  When  Davis  wrote  his  poem  there  was  no 
stone  upon  the  grave  ;  now  it  is  railed  in  with  iron 
rails  wrought  at  the  top  into  the  shape  of  shamrocks, 
and  marked  by  a  winter -worn  headstone,  and  a  stone 
siab^  with  an  inscription  setting  forth  the  name  and 
deeds  of  the  man  who  lies  beneath,  and  ending  "  God 
save  Ireland ! " 

The  leaders  of  constitutional  agitation  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  rebellion  of  the  United  Irishmen.  Neither 
Grattan  nor  Flood  had  belonged  to  the  body,  and 
neither  of  them  had  any  sympathy  with  its  efforts. 
They  stood  aside  while  the  struggle  was  going  on,  and 
the  most  prominent  place  in  the  public  mind  was  taken 
by  a  man  not  less  gifted  than  either  of  them,  John 
Curran.  Like  Grattan  and  like  Flood,  Curran  began 
his  career  by  trying  to  play  on  the  double  pipes  of 
poetry  and  oratory,  and,  like   his  great  compeers,  he 


AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  240 

soon  abandoned  verse  for  prose.  He  rose  from  a  very 
humble  origin,  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  ability,  to  a 
commanding  position  at  the  bar,  and  an  honorable 
position  in  Parliament,  and  his  patriotism  was  never 
stained  by  the  slightest  political  subservience.  Before 
the  rebellion  of  1798  he  had  been  conspicuous  for  his 
courage  in  advocating  the  causes  of  men  unpopular 
with  the  government  and  the  English  "  interest,"  and 
afte-r  the  rebellion  broke  out  he  rendered  himself  hon- 
orably eminent  by  the  eloquence  and  the  daring  which 
he  offered  in  turn  to  the  cause  of  all  the  leading  politi- 
cal prisoners.  In  his  speech  for  Hamilton  Rowan — a 
defence  for  which  he  was  threatened  like  a  new  Cicero, 
but,  unlike  Cicero,  remained  undismayed — he  made 
that  defence  of  the  principle  of  universal  emancipation 
which  has  been  so  often,  yet  cannot  be  too  often, 
quoted :  "  I  speak  in  the  spirit  of  the  British  law, 
which  makes  liberty  commensurate  with,  and  insepara- 
ble from,  the  British  soil  which  proclaims  even  to  the 
stranger  and  the  sojourner,  the  moment  he  sets  his 
foot  on  British  earth,  that  the  ground  on  which  he 
treads  is  holy,  and  consecrated  by  the  genius  of  uni- 
versal emancipation.  No  matter  in  what  language  his 
doom  may  have  been  pronounced  ;  no  matter  what 
complexion  incompatible  with  freedom  an  African  or 
an  Indian  sun  may  have  burned  upon  him  ;  no  matter 
in  what  disastrous  battle  his  liberty  may  have  been 
cloven  down  ;  no  matter  with  what  solemnities  he  may 
have  been  devoted  upon  the  altar  of  slavery — the  first 
moment  he  touches  the  sacred  soil  of  Britain  the  altar 
and  the  god  sink  together  in  the  dust  ;  his  soul  walks 
abroad  in  its  own  majesty,  his  body  swells  beyond  the 
measure  of  his  chains,  that  burst  from  around  him,  and 
he  stands  redeemed,  regenerated,  and  disenthralled  by 
the  irresistible  genius  of  universal  emancipation." 

Appeals  to  the  "  irresistible  genius  of  universal 
emancipation  "  were  not  likely  to  have  much  effect  just 
then.  Martial  and  civil  law  Aned  with  each  other  in 
severity  towards  the  leaders  of  the  United  Irishmen. 
But  these,  at  least,  had  striven  for  the  cause  of  emanci- 
pation with  arms  in  their  hands.  There  was  no  such 
excuse  to  justify  the  measures  now  taken  by  the  gov- 
ernment to  insure  that  the  "genius  of  universal  eman- 


250  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

cipation,"  however  "  commensurate  with,  and  insep- 
arable from,"  British  soil,  should  have  very  little 
recognition  on  Irish  earth. 

Having  destroyed  the  revolution,  the  government 
now  determined  to  destroy  the  Parliament.  The  lib- 
erty which  Grattan  had  hoped  might  be  perpetual  en- 
dured exactly  eighteen  years.  Grattan  had  traced  the 
career  of  Ireland  from  injuries  to  arms,  and  from  arms 
to  liberty.  He  was  now  to  witness  the  reverse  of  the 
process,  to  watch  the  progress  from  liberty  to  arms, 
and  from  arms  to  injuries.  The  sword  crushed  out  the 
rebellion,  gold  destroyed  the  Parliament.  The  ruin  of 
the  Irish  Parliament  is  one  of  the  most  shameful  stories 
of  corruption  and  treachery  of  which  history  holds  wit- 
ness. It  was  necessary  to  obtain  a  government  ma- 
jority in  the  Irish  Parliament,  and  the  majority  was 
manufactured  by  the  most  unblushing  bribery.  The 
letters  of  Cornwallis  confess  the  shame  of  a  brave  sol- 
dier at  the  unworthy  means  he  had  to  employ  in  obey- 
ing the  determination  of  the  government  to  steal  from 
Ireland  her  newly  obtained  liberties.  Place  and  office 
were  lavishly  distributed.  Peerages  won  the  highest, 
and  secret  service  money  the  lowest,  of  those  who  were 
to  be  bought.  The  English  ministry  had  decided  that 
Ireland  was  to  be  joined  to  England  in  an  indissoluble 
union,  and  as  Ireland  was  hostile  to  the  scheme  the 
union  was  effected  by  force  and  by  fraud.  The  Bill  of 
Union  was  introduced  and  passed  by  a  well-paid  ma- 
jority of  sixty,  in  1800.  The  eloquence  of  Grattan  was 
raised  to  the  last  in  immortal  accents  against  the  un- 
holy pact.  But  the  speech  of  angels  would  have  been 
addressed  in  vain  to  the  base  and  venal  majority.  It 
is  something  to  remember  that  a  hundred  men  could 
be  found  even  in  that  degraded  assembly  whom  the 
ministry  could  not  corrupt,  who  struggled  to  the  last 
for  the  constitutional  liberties  of  their  country,  and 
who  did  not  abandon  her  in  her  agony. 

It  would  not  be  well  to  leave  this  part  of  the  story 
without  a  reference  to  the  volumes  which  Mr.  Froude 
has  devoted  to  the  '^  English  in  Ireland  in  the  Eigh- 
teenth Century."  There  is  perhaps  no  instance  among 
the  writings  of  history  in  which  commanding  talents 
have  been  put  to  a  worse  use.     The  deliberate  and  well- 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  251 

calculated  intention  of  rousing  up  all  the  old  animos- 
ities of  race  and  religion,  the  carefully  planned  exag- 
geration of  everything  that  tells  against  Ireland,  and 
subordination  or  omission  of  all  to  be  alleged  in  her  favor, 
are  evidence  of  a  purpose  to  injure  which  happily  de- 
feats itself.  The  grotesque  malignity  with  which  Mr. 
Froude  regards  Ireland  and  everything  Irish  is  so  ab- 
surdly overdone,  that,  as  Mr.  Lecky  says,  "  his  book  has 
no  more  claim  to  impartiality  than  an  election  squib." 
"A  writer  of  English  history,"  the  words  are  Mr.  Lecky's 
again,  "who  took  the  'Newgate  Calendar'  as  the  most 
faithful  expression  of  English  ideas,  and  English  mur- 
derers as  the  typical  representatives  of  their  nation, 
would  not  be  regarded  with  unqualified  respect."  Yet 
this  is  literally  what  Mr.  Froude  has  done  in  his  deter- 
mined effort  to  envenom  old  wounds  and  rekindle  the 
embers  of  old  hatreds. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EMMET. — O'CONNELL. 


Though  the  Union  was  accomplished  with  the  open- 
ing of  the  century,  the  exchequers  of  the  two  countries 
were  not  consolidated  for  a  score  of  years  longer,  dur- 
ing which  Ireland  suffered  much,  and  England  gained 
much,  by  the  new  contract.  England's  superior  com- 
mand of  capital  rendered  it  impossible  for  Irish  trade 
and  enterprise  to  compete  successfully  with  her  while 
both  were  chained  together  under  the  same  system, 
and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  Irish  trade  and  enter- 
prise dwindled,  diminished,  and  practically  disappeared. 
The  Union,  like  too  many  compacts  that  have  ever 
been  made  with  the  willing  or  unwilling  Irish  peo- 
ple, was  immediately  followed  by  a  breach  of  faith. 
One  of  the  most  important  factors  in  the  securing  of 
the  Union  was  the  pledge  entered  into  by  Pitt,  and 
promulgated  all  over  Ireland  by  print,  that  legislation 
on    Catholic    Emancipation   and   the    Tithe   Question. 


9  5-2  AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

would  be  introduced  at  once.  It  is  not  to  be  ques 
tioned  that  such  a  promise  must  have  had  great  effect, 
if  not  in  winning  actual  support  to  the  scheme  of 
Union,  at  least  in  preventing  in  many  cases  energetic 
opposition  to  it.  To  many  the  question  of  Catholic 
Emancipation  was  so  immediately  important,  on  many 
the  grievous  burden  of  the  Tithe  Question  pressed  so 
heavily,  that  they  were  almost  ready  to  welcome  any 
measure  which  offered  to  grant  the  one  and  relieve  the 
other.  But  the  pledge  which  Pitt  had  made  Pitt  could 
not  fulfil.  The  bigoted  and  incapable  monarch,  who 
had  opposed  more  reforms  and  brought  more  mis- 
fortune upon  his  own  country  than  any  other  of  all 
England's  kings,  stubbornly  refused  to  give  his  con- 
sent to  any  measure  for  the  relief  of  the  Roman  Cath- 
olics. Pitt  immediately  resigned,  just  eleven  days 
after  the  Union  had  become  law.  The  obstinate  folly 
of  the  third  George  does  not  excuse  the  minister,  who 
had  done  his  best  to  delude  Ireland  by  arousing  hopes 
which  he  w^as  not  certain  of  gratifying,  and  making 
pledges  that  he  was  unable  to  fulfil. 

While  the  pledges  to  the  Irish  people  were  thus 
broken,  the  principles  which  had  obtained  before  the 
Union  remained  unaltered.  The  system  of  corruption 
which  is  perhaps  inseparable  from  the  government  of  a 
viceroy  and  a  Castle  clique  was  in  nowise  diminished, 
and  all  the  important  offices  of  the  Irish  executive 
were  filled  solely  by  Englishmen.  But  the  deceived 
people  could  do  nothing.  The  country  was  under  mar- 
tial law  ;  and  the  experiences  of  '98  had  left  behind 
them  a  memorable  lesson  of  what  martial  law  meant. 
There  w^as  no  means,  as  there  -would  have  been  no  use, 
in  bringing  forward  their  claims  to  considertion  in 
any  constitutional  manner.  But  the  strength  of  the  na- 
tional feeling  of  anger  and  despair  may  be  estimated 
by  the  fact  that,  in  spite  of  the  horrors  of  the  recent 
revolution,  there  were  dangerous  riots  in  several  parts 
of  Ireland,  and  that  one  actual  rising  took  place,  a  last 
act  of  the  rebellion  of  '98  surviving  the  Union.  A 
yOung,  brave,  and  gifted  man,  Robert  Emmet,  the 
youngest  brother  of  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  planned 
the  seizure  of  Dublin  Castle.  The  rising  failed.  Em- 
met might  have  escaped,  but  he  was  in  love  with  Sarah, 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  253 

Curran's  daughter,  and  he  was  captured  while  awaiting 
an  opportunity  for  an  interview  with  her.  Curran  was 
bitterly  opposed  to  the  love  affair;  he  refused  to  defend 
Emmet,  and  he  has  sometimes  been  accused  in  conse- 
quence of  being  indirectly  the  cause  of  Emmet's  death. 
But  we  may  safely  assume  that  no  counsel  and  no  de- 
fence could  have  saved  Emmet  then.  The  trial  was 
hurried  through.  Emmet  was  found  guilty  late  at 
night.  -He  w^as  hanged  the  next  morning,  the  20th  of 
September,  1803,  in  Thomas  Street,  on  the  spot  where 
the  gloomy  church  of  St.  Catherine  looks  down  Bridge- 
foot  Street,  where  his  principal  stores  of  arms  had  been 
found.  Just  before  his  death  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Rich- 
ard, Curran's  son,  full  of  melancholy  tenderness,  re- 
gret for  his  lost  love,  and  resignation  for  his  untimely 
death  : 

"  If  there  was  any  one  in  the  world  in  whose  breast 
my  death  might  be  supposed  not  to  stifle  every  spark 
of  resentment,  it  might  be  you  ;  I  have  deeply  injured 
you — I  have  injured  the  happiness  of  a  sister  that  you 
love,  and  w^ho  was  formed  to  give  happiness  to  every 
one  about  her,  instead  of  having  her  own  mind  a  prey 
to  affliction.  Oh,  Richard  !  I  have  no  excuse  to  offer, 
but  that  I  meant  the  reverse  ;  I  intended  as  much  hap- 
piness for  Sarah  as  the  most  ardent  love  could  have 
given  her.  I  never  did  tell  you  how  much  I  idolized 
her  ;  it  was  not  with  a  wild  or  unfounded  passion,  but 
it  was  an  attachment  increasing  every  hour,  from  an 
admiration  of  the  purity  of  her  mind  and  respect  for 
her  talents.  I  did  dwell  in  secret  upon  the  prospect  of 
our  union.  I  did  hope  that  success,  while  it  afforded 
the  opportunity  of  our  union,  might  be  the  means  of 
confirming  an  attachment  which  misfortune  had  called 
forth.  I  did  not  look  to  honors  for  myself — praise  I 
would  have  asked  from  the  lips  of  no  man — but  I  would 
have  wished  to  read  in  the  glow  of  Sarah's  countenance 
that  her  husband  was  respected.  My  love  !  Sarah  !  it 
was  not  thus  that  I  thought  to  have  requited  your  af- 
fection. I  had  hoped  to  be  a  prop,  round  which  your 
affections  might  have  clung,  and  which  would  never 
have  been  shaken  ;  but  a  rude  blast  has  snapped  it,  and 
they  have  fallen  over  a  grave." 

The  government  acted  against  all  the  persons  con- 


254  AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

cerned  in  Emmet's  rising  with  a  rigor  such  as  only 
panic  could  inspire.  The  fear  of  a  French  invasion 
was  incessantly  before  the  eyes  of  the  English  govern- 
ment, and  for  several  years  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  was 
suspended,  and  an  Insurrection  Act  in  full  force.  But 
it  took  no  steps  whatever  to  allay  the  discontent  which 
alone  could  inspire  and  animate  such  insurrections. 
Pitt  returned  to  office  in  1804  on  the  distinct  under- 
standing that  he  would  no  longer  weary  the  king  with 
suggestions  of  relief  for  the  Irish  Catholics,  and  the 
minister  kept  his  word.  The  helplessness  of  the  Irish 
Catholics  and  the  obvious  indifference  of  the  govern- 
ment to  their  condition  now  fostered  the  formation  of  a 
powerful  anti-Catholic  association,  the  Orange  Society, 
a  body  organized  to  support  the  crown  so  long  as'  it 
supported  Protestant  ascendency  in  Ireland,  and  which 
at  one  time,  in  later  years  in  England,  seems  to  have 
gone  near  to  shifting  the  succession  of  the  crown  alto- 
gether. 

For  years  the  government  of  Ireland  drifted  along 
on  its  old  course  of  corruption  and  indifference.  Pitt 
died,  and  Fox  took  his  place.  But  the  genius  of  the 
great  statesman,  "  on  whose  burning  tongue  truth, 
peace,  and  freedom  hung,"  was  quenched  within  the 
year,  and  with  it  the  only  spirit  of  statesmanship  which 
understood  and  sympathized  with  the  struggles  of  the 
Irish  people.  These  struggles  were  carried  on  in 
straggling  continuity,  in  the  form  of  vain  petitions  for 
redress  from  the  Catholics  of  the  better  class,  and  of 
frequent  disturbances  of  a  more  or  less  desperate  kind 
on  the  part  of  the  peasantry.  In  1807  the  tithe  and 
land  difficulties  created  two  bodies,  known  as  Shana- 
vests  and  Caravats,  who  seem  to  have  agitated  for  a 
time  very  fiercely  before  they  disappeared  under  the 
pressure  of  the  law.  But  once  again,  after  a  decade 
of  despair,  a  new  leader  of  the  Irish  people,  a  new 
champion  of  the  Catholic  demands  for  freedom  and  the 
rights  of  citizenship,  came  upon  the  scene. 

Daniel  O'Connell  was  the  first  Irish  leader  for  many 
years  who  was  himself  a  Roman  Catholic.  In  1807  he 
had  made  his  first  political  appearance  as  a  member  of 
the  committee  appointed  to  present  the  petitions  set- 
ting forth  the  Catholic  claims  to  Parliament.     In  1810 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  255 

his  name  came  moie  prominently  before  the  public,  as  a 
speaker  at  a  meeting  called  by  the  Protestant  Corpo- 
ration of  Dublin  to  petition  for  the  repeal  of  the 
Union.  He  at  once  began  to  take  a  prominent  part  in 
the  Emancipation  Movement,  which  grew  in  strength 
and  determination  year  by  year.  Catholic  meetings 
were  held,  and  were  dispersed  by  the  government  time 
after  time,  but  still  the  agitation  went  on.  Its  chief 
supporters  in  Parliament  were  Henry  Grattan,  now  an 
old  man,  and  Sir  Henry  Parnell.  In"  1820  Grattan 
died,  but  the  cause  to  which  he  devoted  his  life  was 
rapidly  striding  towards  success.  O'Connell  and 
Richard  Lalor  Shell,  an  advocate  as  enthusiastic,  an 
orator  only  less  powerful,  than  O'Connell  himself,  were 
bringing  the  cause  nearer  to  its  goal.  Three  bills,  em- 
bracing emancipation,  disfranchisement  of  the  forty- 
shilling  householder  freeholders,  and  the  payment  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  clergy,  were  introduced  and  ad- 
vanced in  the  House  of  Commons  ;  but  the  House  of 
Lords,  urged  by  the  Duke  of  York's  ''So  help  me 
God  "  speech  against  the  bills,  was  resolutely  opposed 
to  them.  The  triumph  was  only  postponed.  The  agi- 
tators discovered  that  the  act  which  prohibited  Roman 
Catholics  from  sitting  in  Parliament  said  nothing 
against  their  being  elected,  and  O'Connell  prepared  to 
carry  the  war  into  Westminster.  In  1828  he  was  re- 
turned to  the  House  of  Commons  for  Clare  County. 
He  refused  to  take  the  oath,  which  was  expressly 
framed  to  exclude  Catholics  from  the  House.  His  re- 
fusal caused  great  agitation  in  both  countries,  and  re- 
sulted in  the  passing  of  the  bill  for  Catholic  Emanci- 
pation in  1829,  after  which  O'Connell  took  his  seat. 
To  O'Connell  what  may  be  considered  as  the  parlia- 
mentary phase  of  the  Irish  Movement  is  due.  He  first 
brought  the  forces  of  constitutional  agitation  in  Eng- 
land to  bear  upon  the  Irish  question,  and  showed  what 
great  results  might  be  obtained  thereby. 

The  act  for  the  relief  of  his  majesty's  Roman  Catho- 
lic subjects  abolished  all  oaths  and  declarations  against 
transubstantiation,  the  invocation  of  saints,  and  the 
sacrifice  of  the  mass  ;  it  allowed  all  Roman  Catholics, 
except  priests,  to  sit  and  vote  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, and  made  no  such  exception  for  the  House  of 


256  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Lords.  A  special  form  of  oath  was  devised  for  Roman 
Catholic  members  of  Parliament,  the  chief  provision 
of  which  called  upon  them  to  maintain  the  Protestant 
succession  of  the  House  of  Hanover,  and  to  make  no 
effort  to  weaken  the  Protestant  religion. 

Though  O'Connell  had  been  the  means  of  calling 
the  act  into  existence,  he  was  not  yet  able  to  take  his 
seat.  The  act  had  been  passed  since  his  election  for 
Clare  ;  its  action  was  not  retrospective.  When  he  pre- 
sented himself-  to  be  sworn,  the  old  oath,  which  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  take,  was  presented  to  him.  He 
refused  it,  and  was  called  upon  to  withdraw.  After 
some  debate  he  was  heard  at  the  bar  of  the  House. 
There  was  a  division,  and  his  right  to  take  the  new  oath 
was  negatived  by  190  to  ii  6.  A  new  writ  was  issued  for 
Clare.  O'Connell  was,  of  course,  re-elected  without 
opposition,  and  took  his  seat  and  the  new  oath  on  the 
4th  of  February,  1830.  But  between  O'Connell's  first 
and  second  election  a  change  had  been  made  in  the 
composition  of  the  electors.  By  an  act  of  Henry  VHI., 
which  had  been  confirmed  in  1795,  freeholders  to  the 
value  of  forty  shillings  over  and  above  all  charges  were 
entitled  to  vote,  a  system  wiiich  naturally  created  an 
immense  number  of  small  land-owners,  who  were  ex- 
pected to  vote  in  obedience  to  the  landlords  who  cre- 
ated them.  O'Connell's  election  showed  that  the  land- 
lords could  not  always  command  the  forty-shilling 
voters.  It  was  clear  that  they  might  be  won  over  to 
any  popular  movement,  and  it  was  decided  to  abolish 
them  ;  which  was  accordingly  done  by  an  act  passed  on 
the  same  day  with  the  Catholic  Emancipation  Act. 
The  new  act  raised  the  county  franchise  to  ten  pounds, 
and  freeholders  of  ten  pounds,  but  under  twenty 
pounds,  were  subjected  to  a  complicated  system  of 
registration,  well  calculated  to  bewilder  the  unhappy 
tenant,  and  render  his  chance  of  voting  more  difficult. 
But  all  these  precautions  did  not  prevent  the  trium- 
phant return  of  O'Connell  the  second  time  he  appealed 
to  the  electors  of  Clare,  nor  did  it  ever  prove  of  much 
service  in  repressing  the  tenants  from  voting  for  the 
leaders  of  popular  movements. 

The  disenfranchisement  produced  intense  discontent 
throughout  the  country,  and  disorder  followed  close  on 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY,  257 

discontent.  O'Connell  now  began  to  remind  Ireland 
of  his  promise  that  Catholic  Emancipation  was  a  means 
towards  an  end,  and  that  end  the  Repeal  of  the  Union. 
He  started  a  society  called  the  ''Friend  of  Ireland," 
which  the  government  at  once  put  down  He  started 
another,  ''  The  Anti-Union  Association."  It  was  put 
down  too,  and  O'Connell  was  arrested  for  sedition, 
tried,  and  found  guilty.  Judgment  was  deferred  and 
never  pronounced,  and  O'Connell  was  released  to  carry 
on  his  agitation  more  vigorously  than  ever.  With 
Ireland  torn  by  disorders  against  which  even  the  Insur- 
rection Acts  in  force  found  it  hard  to  cope,  with  the 
country  aflame  with  anger  at  the  extinction  of  the 
forty-shilling  vote,  the  government  judged  it  wise  and 
prudent  to  bring  in  a  bill  for  Ireland  in  January,  1832, 
effecting  still  further  disfranchisement.  The  new  bill 
abolished  the  forty-shilling  vote  in  boroughs  as  well  as 
in  counties,  and  the  lowest  rate  for  boroughs  and 
counties  was  ten  pounds. 

But  for  the  next  few  years  all  recollection  of  emanci- 
pation on  the  one  hand,  and  disenfranchisement  on  the 
other,  was  to  be  swallowed  up  in  a  struggle  which  has 
passed  into  history  as  the  Irish  Tithe  War.  The  Eng- 
lish Church  was  established  in  Ireland  against  the  will 
of  the  enormous  majority  of  the  Irish  people,  and  they 
were  compelled  to  pay  tithes  to  maintain  the  obnox- 
ious establishment.  Sydney  Smith  declared  that  there 
was  no  abuse  like  this  in  Timbuctoo,  and  he  estimated 
that  probably  a  million  of  lives  had  been  sacrificed  in 
Ireland  to  the  collection  of  tithes.  They  had  to  be 
wrung  from  the  reluctant  people  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet,  and  often  enough  by  musket  volleys.  There 
were,  naturally,  incessant  riots.  The  clergymen  of  the 
Established  Church  had  to  call  in  the  services  of  an 
army,  and  appeal  to  the  strategies  and  menaces  of  min- 
iature war  to  obtain  their  tithes  from  the  harassed  fol- 
lowers of  another  faith.  Such  a  state  of  things  could 
not  last  long.  In  the  end  a  general  strike  against  the 
payment  of  tithes  was  organized,  and  then  not  all  the 
king's  horses  nor  all  the  king's  men  could  have  en- 
forced their  payment.  In  1833  the  arrears  of  tithes  ex- 
ceeded a  million  and  a  quarter  of  money.  There  was 
in  Ireland  an  army  almost  as  great  as  that  which  held 


258  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY 

India.  In  1833  it  had  cost  more  than  a  million  to 
maintain  this  army,  with  ^300,000  more  for  the  police 
force,  and  the  government  had  spent  ^^26,000  to  col- 
lect ^12,000  of  tithes.  For  many  years  successive 
English  ministers  and  statesmen  made  efforts  to  deal 
with  the  Tithe  Question  ;  but  it  was  not  until  1838,  a 
year  after  Queen  Victoria  came  to  the  throne,  that  a 
bill  was  passed  by  Lord  John  Russell,  which  converted 
tithes  into  a  rent  charge,  recoverable  from  the  landlord 
instead  of  from  the  tenant.  The  tenant  had  practically 
still  to  pay  the  tithes  in  increased  rent  to  his  landlord, 
but  it  was  no  longer  levied  from  him  directly  as  tithes, 
and  by  the  ministers  of  the  Established  Church  ;  that 
was  the  only  difference.  It  only  exasperated  the  ex- 
isting discontent.  The  agitation  turned  against  rent, 
now  that  the  rent  meant  tithes  as  well.  Secret  socie- 
ties increased.  A  landlord.  Lord  Norbury,  was  assassi- 
nated, and  the  assassins  were  never  discovered,  though 
the  country  was  under  severe  Coercion  Acts. 

In  the  year  1845  there  was  fierce  discussion  in  Eng- 
land over  the  Maynooth  grant.  Some  time  before  the 
Union  a  government  grant  had  been  made  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  college  at  Maynooth,  where  young  men  who 
wished  to  become  priests  were  educated.  But  the  old 
grant  was  insufficient,  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  increased  it 
in  the  teeth  of  the  most  violent  opposition,  not  merely 
from  his  political  opponents,  but  from  many  who  were 
on  other  matters  his  political  partisans.  Mr.  Gladstone 
resigned  his  place  in  the  ministry  rather  than  counte- 
nance the  increased  Maynooth  grant.  For  years  and 
years  after,  annual  motions  were  made  in  the  House  of 
Commons  for  the  withdrawal  of  the  grant,  and  wearily 
debated,  until  the  abolition  of  the  State  Church  in  Ire- 
land abolished  the  grant,  too,  and  ended  the  matter. 
Peel  also  established  the  Queen's  Colleges  of  Cork, 
Belfast,  and  Galway,  for  purely  secular  teaching,  which 
came  to  be  known  in  consequence  as  the  Godless  Col- 
leges. These  colleges  pleased  neither  Catholics  nor 
Protestants.  The  Catholics  argued  that  there  were 
universities  which  gave  Protestants  religious  as  well  as 
secular  education,  and  that  the  Catholics  should  be 
allowed  something  of  the  same  kind.  Still,  the  new 
scheme,  at  least,  allowed  Catholics  an  opportunity  of 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  259 

obtaining  a  university  education  and  winning  university 
degrees.  Up- to  that  time  no  Irishman  of  the  religion 
of  his  race  could  win  any  of  the  honors  that  the  univer- 
sities of  Ireland  offered  which  were  worth  winning.  He 
might,  indeed,  enter  their  gates  and  sit  at  the  feet  of 
their  teachers,  but  so  long  as  he  was  a  Catholic  he  could 
practically  reap  no  rewards  for  his  scholarship. 

O'Connell's  success  in  winning  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion inspired  him  with  the  desire  to  bring  about  the  re- 
peal of  the  Union,  and  it  did  not  seem  to  him  and  his 
followers  that  the  difficulties  in  the  way  were  any  greater 
than  those  which  had  showed  so  terrible  when  Catholic 
Emancipation  was  first  demanded,  and  which  had  been 
triumphantly  overcome. 

There  was  a  great  deal  against  the  agitation.  To 
begin  with,  the  country  was  very  poor.  *'  Every  class 
of  the  community,"  says  Sir  Charles  Gavan  Duffy, 
"  were  poorer  than  the  corresponding  class  in  any  coun- 
try in  Europe."  The  merchants,  who  had  played  a 
prominent  part  in  political  life  since  the  Union,  were 
now  wearied  and  despairing  of  all  agitation,  and  held 
aloof ;  the  Protestant  gentry  were,  for  the  most  part, 
devoted  to  the  Union  ;  many  of  the  Catholic  gentry 
disliked  O'Connell  himself  and  his  rough,  wild  ways  ; 
many  of  O'Connell's  old  associates  in  the  Catholic 
Emancipation  movement  had  withdrawn  from  him  to 
join  the  Whigs.  In  England  the  most  active  dislike  of 
O'Connell  prevailed.  The  Pericles  or  the  Socrates  of 
Aristophanes,  the  royalists  drawn  by  Camille  Desmou- 
lins,  were  not  grotesquer  caricatures  than  the  repre- 
sentation of  O'Connell  by  English  opinion  and  the  Eng- 
lish press. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  much  for  O'Con- 
nell. It  might  be  said  of  him  as  of  Wordsworth's  Tous- 
saint  rOuverture,  that  "his  friends  were  exultations, 
agonies,  and  love,  and  man's  unconquerable  mind." 
The  people  were  with  him,  the  people  to  whose  suffer- 
ings he  appealed,  the  people  for  whom  he  had  secured 
the  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  who  regarded  him  as 
almost  invincible.  He  was  a  great  orator,  endowed 
with  a  wonderful  voice,  which  he  could  send  in  all  its 
strength  and   sweetness  to  the  furthest  limits  of   the 


260  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

vastest  crowd  that  ever  came  together  to  hear  him 
speak.     Lord  Lytton  declared  that  he  first  learned 

"what  spells  of  infinite  choice 
To  rouse  or  lull  has  the  sweet  human  voice," 

when  he  heard  O'Connell  speak,  and  that  in  watching 
him  governing  with  his  genius  and  his  eloquence  one 
of  his  great  meetings,  he  learned 

"to  seize  the. sudden  clue 
To  the  grand  troublous  life  antique,  to  view 
Under  the  rock  stand  of  Demosthenes 
Unstable  Athens  heave  her  stormy  seas." 

It  was  not  unnatural  that  O'Connell  should  have 
been  carried  away  by  his  triumph  and  the  homage  his 
country  gave  him  everywhere  into  the  belief  that  the 
Repeal  of  the  Union  was  to  be  as  easily  accomplished 
by  the  strong  man  and  the  determined  nation  as  the 
emancipation  of  the  Catholics. 

During  the  years  of  disturbance  and  repression, 
O'Connell  had  let  the  demand  for  Repeal  lie  compar- 
atively quiet,  but  it  was  gradually  gaining  strength 
and  popularity  throughout  the  country.  It  was  sup- 
ported at  first  by  the  Nation  newspaper.  In  1843  the 
Repeal  Association  was  founded  ;  O'Connell  contrived 
to  enlist  in  its  ranks  Father  Mathew,  and  the  large 
number  of  followers  Father  Mathew  was  daily  winning 
over  to  the  cause  of  total  abstinence. 

''The  year  1843,"  said  O'Connell,  "is  and  shall  be 
the  great  Repeal  year."  The  prediction  was  vain  ; 
forty  years  have  gone  by,  and  still  the  Union  holds. 
O'Connell  had  Ireland  at  his  back ;  he  convened 
gigantic  meetings  where  every  word  of  his  wonderful 
voice  was  treasured  as  the  utterance  of  a  prophet ;  but 
when  the  agitation  had  reached  a  height  which  seemed 
dangerous  to  the  government,  and  made  them  decide 
to  put  it  down,  his  power  was  over.  He  would  sanction 
no  sort  of  physical  force,  no  opposition  other  than  con- 
stitutional opposition  to  the  government.  The  govern- 
ment proclaimed  his  meetings  and  put  him  into  prison  ; 
he  was  soon  set  free,  but  his  reign  was  over.  Fierce 
spirits  had  risen  in  his  place,  men  who  scornfully  re- 


AN   OUTLINE    OF   IRISH  HISTORY,  261 

pudiated  the  abnegation  of  physical  force.  Broken  in 
heahh,  O'Connell  turned  to  Rome,  and  died  on  the 
way,  at  Genoa,  on  May  15,  1847.  Many  recent  political 
writers  have  been  at  the  pains  to  glorify  O'Connell  at 
the  expense  of  later  leaders.  It  is  instructive  to  re- 
member that  in  O'Connell's  lifetime,  and  for  long 
after,  he  was  the  object  of  political  hatred  and  abuse 
no  less  unsparing  than  any  that  has  assailed  his  suc- 
cessors in  Irish  popularity. 

The  condition  of  Ireland  at  the  time  of  O'Connell's 
death  was  truly  desperate.  From  1845  to  1847  a  terri- 
ble famine  had  been  literally  laying  the  country  waste. 
The  chief,  indeed,  practically,  the  only  food  of  the 
Irish  peasantry  then,  as  now,  was  the  potato,  and  a 
failure  of  the  potato  crop  meant  starvation.  *'  But 
what,"  says  Carlyle  in  his  "  French  Revolution,"  "  if 
history  somewhere  on  this  planet  were  to  hear  of  a 
nation,  the  third  soul  of  whom  had  not  for  thirty  weeks 
each  year  as  many  third-rate  potatoes  as  would  sustain 
him  ?  History,  in  that  case,  feels  bound  to  consider 
that  starvation  is  starvation  ;  that  starvation  from  age 
to  age  presupposes  much ;  history  ventures  to  assert 
that  the  French  Sansculotte  of  '93,  who,  roused  from 
long  death-sleep,  could  rush  at  once  to  the  frontiers, 
and  die  fighting  for  an  immortal  hope  and  faith  and 
deliverance  for  him  and  his,  was  but  the  second  mis- 
erablest  of  men  !  The  Irish  Sans-potato,  had  he  not 
senses  then,  nay,  a  soul  ?  In  his  frozen  darkness  it  was 
bitter  for  him  to  die  famishing,  bitter  to  see  his  chil- 
dren famish." 

In  1845,  1846,  and  in  1847  the  potato  crop  had  failed, 
and  for  the  time  the  country  seemed  almost  given  over 
to  hunger  and  to  death.  Thousands  died  miserably 
from  starvation ;  thousands  fled  across  the  seas,  seek- 
ing refuge  in  America,  to  hand  down  to  their  children 
and  their  children's  children,  born  in  the  American 
republic,  a  bitter  recollection  of  the  misery  they  had 
endured,  and  the  wrongs  that  had  been  inflicted  upon 
them.  When  the  famine  was  at  an  end  it  was  found 
that  Ireland  had  lost  two  millions  of  population.  Be- 
fore the  famine  she  had  eight  millions,  now  she  had 
six.  All  through  the  famine  the  government  had  done 
nothing  ;  private  charity  in  England,  in  America,  even 


262  AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

in  Turkey,  had  done  something,  and  done  it  nobly,  to 
stay  the  desolation  and  the  dissolution  that  the  famine 
was  causing.  But  the  government,  if  it  could  not  ap- 
pease the  famine,  showed  itself  active  in  devising 
Coercion  Bills  to  put  down  any  spirit  of  violence 
which  misery  and  starvation  might  haply  have  engen- 
dered in  the  Irish  people. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  country  when  O'Con- 
nell  and  the  Repeal  Movement  died  together,  and  when 
the  Young  Ireland  Movement,  with  its  dream  of  armed 
rebellion,  came  into  existence. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

YOUNG    IRELAND. — FENIANISM. 

The  Nation  newspaper  was  first  published  on  the 
13th  of  October,  1842  ;  it  was  founded  byGavan  Duffy, 
John  Blake  Dillon,  and  Thomas  Davis.  GaVan  Duffy 
was  the  editor,  but  he  says  himself,  in  his  history  of  the 
movement,  that  Davis  was  their  true  leader.  They  were 
all  young  men  ;  Davis  was  twenty-eight,  Dillon  twenty- 
seven,  and  Duffy  twenty-six.  Davis,  says  Sir  Charles 
Gavan  Duffy,  *'  was  a  man  of  middle  stature,  strongly 
but  not  coarsely  built  ;  .  .  .  a  broad  brow  and 
strong  jaw  stamped  his  face  with  a  character  of  power  ; 
but  except  when  it  was  lighted  by  thought  or  feeling,  it 
was  plain  and  even  rugged."  In  his  boyhood  he  was 
''  shy,  retiring,  unready,  and  self-absorbed,"  was  even 
described  as  a  "dull  child  "  by  unappreciative  kinsfolk. 
At  Trinity  College  he  was  a  wide  and  steady  reader, 
who  was  chiefly  noted  by  his  fellow-students  for  his  in- 
difference to  rhetorical  display.  He  was  auditor  of  the 
Dublin  Historical  Society,  had  made  some  name  for 
himself  by  his  contributions  to  a  magazine  called  the 
Citizen^  and  was  a  member  of  the  Repeal  Association. 
When  Duffy  made  John  Dillon's  acquaintance,  Dillon 
was  "  tall,  and  strikingly  handsome,  with  eyes  like  a 
thoughtful  woman's,  and   the  clear  olive  complexion 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  263 

and  stately  bearing  of  a  Spanish  nobleman."  He  had 
been  designed  for  the  priesthood,  but  had  decided  to 
adopt  the  bar.  Like  Davis,  he  loved  intellectual  pur- 
suits, and  was  a  man  of  wide  and  varied  learning. 
"  Under  a  stately  and  somewhat  reserved  demeanor  lay 
latent  the  simplicity  and  joyfulness  of  a  boy  ;  no  one 
was  readier  to  laugh  with  frank  cordiality,  or  to  give 
and  take  the  pleasant  banter  which  lends  a  relish  to 
the  friendship  of  young  men."  Long  years  after, 
Thackeray  said  of  him  to  Gavan  Duffy,  that  the  mod- 
esty and  wholesome  sweetness  of  John  Dillon  gave  him 
a  foremost  place  among  the  half  dozen  men  in  the 
United  States  whom  he  loved  to  remember. 

The  success  of  the  Nation  was  extraordinary.  Its 
political  teachings,  its  inspiring  and  vigorous  songs 
and  ballads,  the  new  lessons  of  courage  and  hope  which 
it  taught,  the  wide  knowledge  of  history  possessed  by 
its  writers — all  combined  to  make  it  welcome  to  thou- 
sands. The  tradesmen  in  town  and  the  country  peas- 
ants read  it,  and  were  animated  by  the  story  of  their 
old  historic  island  into  the  belief  that  she  had  a  future, 
and  that  the  future  was  close  at  hand,  and  that  they 
were  to  help  to  make  it.  It  was  denounced  by  the 
Tory  press  as  the  organ  of  a  hidden  "  French  party." 
From  France  itself  came  words  of  praise  worth  having, 
from  two  Irish  officers  in  the  French  service.  One 
was  Arthur  O'Connor,  the  Arthur  O'Connor  of  '98  ; 
tlie  other  was  Miles  Byrne,  who  had  fought  at  Wexford. 
O'Connell  became  alarmed  at  the  growing  popularity 
of  the  Nation.  At  first  it  had  strongly  supported  him  : 
he  had  even  written  a  Repeal  Catechism  in  its  pages  ; 
but  its  young  men  had  the  courage  to  think  for  them- 
selves, and  to  criticise  even  the  deeds  and  words  of  the 
Liberator.  More  and  more  young  men  clustered  around 
the  writers  of  the  Nation;  brilliant  young  essayists, 
politicians,  poets.  Gifted  women  wrote  for  the  Nation^ 
too— Lady  Wilde,  "Speranza,"  chief  among  them. 
The  songs  published  in  a  volume  called  *'  The  Spirit 
of  the  Nation "  became  immediately  very  popular. 
As  the  agitation  grew,  Peel's  government  became  more 
threatening.  O'Connell,  in  most  of  his  defiant  declara- 
tions, evidently  thought  that  Peel  did  not  dare  to  put 
down  the  organization  for  Repeal,  or  he  would  never 


264  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

have  challenged  him  as  he  did  ;  for  O'Connell  nevei 
really  meant  to  resort  to  force  at  any  time.  But  the 
few  young  men  who  wrote  for  the  Nation^  and  the 
many  young  men  who  read  the  Nation,  were  really  pre- 
pared to  fight,  if  need  be,  for  their  liberties.  Nor  did 
they  want  foreign  sympathy  to  encourage  them.  In 
the  United  States  vast  meetings,  organized  and  di- 
rected by  men  like  Seward  and  Horace  Greeley, 
threatened  England  with  "the  assured  loss  of  Canada 
by  American  arms"  if  she  suppressed  the  Repeal 
agitation  by  force  ;  and  later  Horace  Greeley  was  one 
of  a  Directory  in  New  York  for  sending  officers  and 
arms  to  Ireland.  In  France,  the  Republican  Party 
were  loud  in  their  expressions  of  sympathy  for  the 
Irish,  and  Ledru-Rollin  had  declared  that  France  was 
ready  to  lend  her  strength  to  the  support  of  an  op- 
pressed nation.  No  wonder  the  leaders  of  the  Na- 
tional Party  were  encouraged  in  the  belief  that  their 
cause  was  pleasing  to  the  Fates. 

A  new  man  now  began  to  come  forward  as  a  promi- 
nent figure  in  Irish  politics,  Mr.  William  Smith  O'Brien, 
Member  of  Parliament  for  Limerick  County.  He  was 
a  country  gentleman  of  stately  descent,  a  direct  de- 
scendant of  Brian  Boroihme,  a  brother  of  Lord  In- 
chiquin.  He  was  a  high-minded  and  honorable  gen- 
tleman, with  his  country's  cause  deeply  at  heart. 
Davis  described  him  as  the  "  most  extravagant  admirer 
of  the  Nation  I  have  ever  met."  Another  prominent 
man  was  John  Mitchel,  the  son  of  an  Ulster  Unitarian 
minister.  When  O'Connell's  vast  agitation  fell  to 
pieces  after  the  suppression  of  the  meeting  of  Clontarf, 
and  the  subsequent  imprisonment  of  O'Connell  showed 
that  the  Liberator  did  not  mean  ever  to  appeal  to  the 
physical  force  he  had  talked  about,  these  two  men  be- 
came the  leaders  of  different  sections  of  the  Young 
Ireland  Party,  as  the  men  of  the  Nation  were  now  called. 
Thomas  Davis,  the  sweet  chief  singer  of  the  movement, 
died  suddenly  before  the  movement  which  he  had  done 
so  much  for  had  taken  direct  revolutionary  shape. 
Mitchel  came  on  the  Nation  in  his  place,  and  advocated 
revolution  and  republicanism.  He  followed  the  tradi- 
tions of  Emmet  and  the  men  of  '98 ;  he  was  in  favor  of 
independence.    His  doctrines  attracted  the  more  ardent 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  265 

of  the  Youn^  Irelanders,  and  what  was  known  as  a 
War  Party  was  formed.  There  were  now  three  sec- 
tions of  Irish  agitation.  There  were  the  Repealers,  who 
w^ere  opposed  to  all  physical  force  ;  there  w^ere  the  mod- 
erate Young  Irelanders,  only  recognizing  physical  force 
when  all  else  had  failed  in  the  last  instance  ;  and  there 
were  now  this  new  party,  who  saw  in  revolution  the 
only  remedy  for  Ireland.  Smith  O'Brien  was  bitterly 
opposed  to  Mitchel's  doctrines.  Mitchel  w^ithdrew  from 
the  Nation  and  started  a  paper  of  his  own,  the  United 
Irishman^  in  which  he  advocated  them  more  fiercely 
than  ever.  But  though  most  of  the  Young  Irelanders 
were  not  so  extreme  as  Mitchel,  the  great  majority  of 
them  talked,  wrote,  and  thought  revolution.  In  pas- 
sionate poems  and  eloquent  speeches  they  expressed 
their  hatred  of  tyranny  and  their  stern  resolve  to  free 
their  country  by  brave  deeds  rather  than  by  arguments. 
They  had  now  a  brilliant  orator  among  them,  Thomas 
Francis  Meagher,  ''  a  young  man,"  says  Mr.  Lechy, 
^'  whose  eloquence  was  beyond  comparison  superior  to 
that  of  any  other  rising  speaker  in  the  country,  and 
who,  had  he  been  placed  in  circumstances  favorable 
to  the  development  of  his  talent,  might  perhaps,  at 
length,  have  taken  his  place  among  the  great  orators  of 
Ireland."  Meagher  had  early  endeared  himself  to  the 
impetuous  and  gifted  young  men  with  whom  he  was 
allied,  by  a  brilliant  speech  against  O'Connell's  doctrine 
of  passive  resistance.  ^'  I  am  not  one  of  those  tame 
moralists,"  the  young  man  explained,  "who  say  that 
liberty  is  not  worth  one  drop  of  blood.  .  .  .  Against 
this  miserable  maxim  the  noble  virtue  that  has  saved 
and  sanctified  humanity  appears  in  judgment.  From 
the  blue  waters  of  the  Bay  of  Salamis  ;  from  the  valley 
over  which  the  sun  stood  still  and  lit  the  Israelites  to 
victory  ;  from  the  cathedral  in  which  the  sword  of  Po- 
land has  been  sheathed  in  the  shroud  of  Kosciusko  ; 
from  the  Convent  of  St.  Isidore,  where  the  fiery  hand 
that  rent  the  ensign  of  St.  George  upon  the  plains  of 
Ulster  has  mouldered  into  dust ;  from  the  sands  of  the 
desert,  where  the  wild  genius  of  the  Algerine  so  long 
has  scared  the  eagle  of  the  Pyrenees  ;  from  the  ducal 
palace  in  this  kingdom,  where  the  memory  of  the 
gallant   and   seditious  Geraldine  enhances  more  than 


2GG  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

royal  favor  the  splendor  of  his  race  ;  from  the  solitary- 
grave  within  this  mute  city,  which  a  dying  bequest  has 
left  without  an  epitaph — oh  !  from  every  spot  where 
heroism  has  had  a  sacrifice  or  a  triumph,  a  voice  breaks 
in  upon  the  cringing  crowd  that  cherishes  this  maxim, 
crying,  '  Away  with  it — away  with  it  ! '  " 

The  year  1848,  the  year  of  unfulfilled  revolutions, 
when  crowns  were  falling  and  kings  flying  about  in  all 
directions,  might  well  have  seemed  a  year  of  happy 
omen  for  a  new  Irish  rebellion.  But  the  Young  Ire- 
landers  were  not  ready  for  rebellion  when  their  plans 
were  made  known  to  the  government,  and  the  govern- 
ment struck  at  them  before  they  could  do  anything. 
Mitchel  was  arrested,  tried,  and  transported  to  Ber- 
muda. That  was  the  turning-point  of  the  revolution. 
The  Mitchelites  wished  to  rise  in  rescue.  They  urged, 
and  rightly  urged,  that  if  revolution  was  meant  at  all, 
then  was  the  time.  But  the  less  extreme  men  held 
back.  An  autumnal  rising  had  been  decided  upon,  and 
they  were  unwilling  to  anticipate  the  struggle.  They 
carried  their  point.  Mitchell  was  sentenced  to  fourteen 
years'  transportation.  When  the  verdict  was  delivered 
he  declared  that,  like  the  Roman  Sccevola,  he  could 
promise  hundreds  who  would  follow  his  example,  and 
as  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  John  Martin,  Meagher,  and 
others  of  the  associates  who  were  thronging  the  galleries 
of  the  court.  A  wild  cry  came  up  from  all  his  friends, 
"  Promise  for  me,  Mitchel — promise  for  me  !  "  With 
that  cry  ringing  in  his  ears  he  was  hurried  from  the 
court,  heavily  ironed  and  encircled  by  a  little  army  of 
dragoons,  to  the  war-sloop  Shearwater^  that  had  been 
waiting  for  the  verdict  and  the  man.  As  the  war-sloop 
steamed  out  of  Dublin  harbor  the  hopes  of  the  Young 
Irelanders  went  with  her,  vain  and  evanescent,  from  that 
hour  forth,  as  the  smoke  that  floated  in  the  steamer's 
wake.  Mitchel  had  himself  discountenanced,  to  his 
undying  honor,  any  attempt  at  rescue.  There  is  a 
pathetic  little  story  which  records  his  looking  out  of 
the  prison-van  that  drove  him  from  the  court,  and  see- 
ing a  great  crowd  and  asking  where  they  were  going, 
and  being  told  that  they  were  going  to  a  flower-show. 

There  were  plenty  of  men  in  the  movement  who 
would  have  gladly  risked  everything  to  try  and  rescue 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  ^GT 

Mitchel.  But  nothing  could  have  been  done  without 
unanimity,  and  the  too  great  caution  of  the  leaders 
prevented  the  effort  at  the  only  moment  when  it  could 
have  had  the  faintest  hope  of  success.  From  that  hour 
the  movement  was  doomed.  Men  who  had  gone  into 
the  revolution  heart  and  soul  might  then  have  said  of 
Smith  O'Brien,  as  Menas  in  *' Antony  and  Cleopatra" 
says  to  Pompey,  '*  For  this  I'll  never  follow  thy  pall'd 
fortunes  more.  Who  seeks  and  will  not  take  when 
once  'tis  offered,  shall  never  find  it  more."  The  su- 
preme moment  of  danger  thus  passed  over,  the  gov- 
ernment lost  no  time  in  crushing  out  all  that  was  left 
of  the  insurrection.  Smith  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  Dil- 
lon went  down  into  the  country,  and  tried  to  raise  an 
armed  rebellion.  There  was  a  small  scuffle  with  the 
police  in  a  cabbage-garden  at  Ballingarry,  in  Tippe- 
rary  ;  the  rebels  were  dispersed,  and  the  rebellion  was 
over.  Smith  O'Brien,  Meagher,  and  others  were  ar- 
rested and  condemned  to  death.  Meagher's  speech 
from  the  dock  was  worthy  of  his  rhetorical  genius. 
*'  I  am  not  here  to  crave  with  faltering  lip  the  life  I 
have  consecrated  to  the  independence  of  my  country. 
...  I  offer  to  my  country,  as  some  proof  of  the  sin- 
cerity with  which  I  have  thought  and  spoken  and 
struggled  for  her,  the  life  of  a  young  heart.  .  .  .  The 
history  of  Ireland  explains  my  crime  and  justifies  it.  . 
.  .  Even  here,  where  the  shadows  of  death  surround 
me,  and  from  which  I  see  my  early  grave  opening  for 
me  in  no  consecrated  soil,  the  hope  which  beckoned 
me  forth  on  that  perilous  sea  whereon  I  have  been 
wrecked,  animates,  consoles,  enraptures  me.  No,  I 
don't  despair  of  my  poor  old  country,  her  peace,  her 
liberty,  her  glory!" 

The  death  sentence  was  commuted  to  transportation 
for  life,  and  some  years  after  Mitchel  and  Meagher 
succeeded  in  escaping  from  Australia,  and  later  on 
Smith  O'Brien  was  pardoned,  and  died  in  Wales  in 
1854.  Mitchel  was  elected  to  the  House  of  Commons 
years  after,  but  was  not  allowed  to  sit,  and  died  while 
the  question  was  still  pending.  Meagher  fought  brave- 
ly for  the  cause  of  the  North  in  the  American  Civil 
War,  and  died  ingloriously,  drowned  in  the  muddy 
waters  of  the  Missouri.     Gavan  Duffy  was  tried  three 


268  A^   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

•  times,  but  could  not  be  convicted.  He  afterwards  sat 
for  some  time  in  Parliament,  and  then  went  into  vol- 
untary exile,  to  find  fame  and  fortune  in  Victoria.  For 
sixteen  years  the  country  was  politically  quiet.  A  vain 
attempt  was  made  in  1849,  after  all  the  Young  Ireland 
leaders  had  fled  or  been  sent  into  exile,  to  revive  the 
agitation  and  recreate  the  insurrection.  A  few  abor- 
tive local  risings  there  were,  and  nothing  more.  Star- 
vation and  misery  forced  the  people  into  steady  and 
incessant  emigration.  Eviction  was  in  full  swing,  and 
between  eviction  and  emigration  it  is  estimated  that  al- 
most a  million  of  people  left  Ireland  between  1847  and 
1857.  "In  a  few  years  more,"  says  the  Twies  exult- 
ingly,  "  a  Celtic  Irishman  will  be  as  rare  in  Connemara 
as  is  the  Red  Indian  on  the  shores  of  Manhattan." 
That  the  Times  was  not  a  true  prophet  was  no  fault  of 
the  majority  of  the  Irish  landlords.  Evictions  took 
place  by  the  hundred,  by  the  thousand,  by  the  ten 
thousand.  Winter  or  summer,  day  or  night,  fair  or 
foul  weather,  the  tenants  were  ejected.  Sick  or  well, 
bedridden  or  dying,  the  tenants,  men,  women,  or  chil- 
dren, were  turned  out  for  the  rents  they  had  not  paid, 
for  the  rents  which  in  those  evil  days  of  famine  and 
failure  they  could  not  pay.  They  might  go  to  Amer- 
ica if  they  could  ;  they  might  die  on  the  roadstead  if 
so  it  pleased  them.  They  were  out  of  the  hut,  and  the 
hut  was  unroofed  that  they  might  not  seek  its  shelter 
again,  and  that  was  all  the  landlord  cared  about.  The 
expiring,  evicted  tenant  might,  said  Mitchel,  raise  his 
dying  eyes  to  heaven  and  bless  his  God  that  he  per- 
ished under  the  finest  constitution  in  the  world.  It  is 
hardly  a  matter  of  surprise,  however  much  of  regret 
and  reprobation,  that  the  lives  of  the  evicting  landlords 
should  often  be  in  peril,  and  often  be  taken.  The  Eng- 
lish farmer,  the  English  cottier,  have  happily  no  idea 
of  the  horror  of  evictions  in  Ireland  as  they  prevailed 
in  the  years  that  followed  the  famine  of  1847,  as  they 
had  always  prevailed,  as  they  prevail  still. 

Many  of  the  landlords  themselves  were  in  no  envi- 
able condition.  Mortgages  and  settlements  of  all 
kinds,  the  results  of  their  own  or  their  ancestors'  pro- 
fuseness,  hung  on  their  estates,  and  made  many  a 
stately  showing  rent-roll  the  merest  simulacrum  of  ter- 


AAT  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  269 

ritorial  wealth.  Even  rack-rents  could  not  enable 
many  of  the  landlords  to  keep  their  heads  above  water. 
At  length  the  English  Government  made  an  effort  to 
relieve  their  condition  by  passing  the  Encumbered  Es- 
tates Act,  by  means  of  Avhich  a  landlord  or  his  cred- 
itors might  petition  to  have  an  estate  sold  in  the  court 
established  for  that  purpose  under  the  act.  In  1858, 
by  a  supplementary  Irish  Landed  Estates  Act,  the 
powers  of  the  court  were  increased  to  allow  the  sale  of 
properties  that  were  not  encumbered. 

The  tenant  wanted  legislation  as  well  as  the  land- 
lord, and  in  August,  1850,  those  who  sympathized  with 
the  tenant's  cause  began  to  agitate  for  legislation.  A 
conference  was  called  by  Dr.  (afterwards  Sir)  John 
Gray,  the  Protestant  owner  of  the  Freeman  s  Journal^ 
by  the  Prebyterian  barrister  Mr.  Greer,  who  later  rep- 
resented Derry  in  Parliament,  and  by  Frederick  Lucas, 
the  Catholic  owner  of  the  Tablet.  A  conference  of 
men  of  all  classes  and  creeds  was  held  in  Dublin — a 
conference,  Mr.  Bright  then  called  it  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  *^of  earnest  men  from  all  parts  of  Ireland," 
and  a  tenant  league  was  started.  Everything  was 
against  the  league.  The  indifference  of  England,  the 
prostration  of  the  country  after  the  famine  and  the  re- 
bellion, the  apathy,  even  the  hostility,  of  the  Irish  Lib- 
eral members,  were  all  combined  against  it.  Then 
came  the  reorganization  of  the  Catholic  Church  in 
England,  and  Lord  John  Russell's  "  Durham  Letter," 
which  for  the  time  made  any  political  alliance  between 
Catholic  and  Protestant  impossible.  But  when,  in 
1852,  the  Whig  ministry  went  out,  and  Lord  Derby, 
coming  in  with  the  Tories,  dissolved  Parliament,  the 
chance  of  the  tenant  leaguers  came.  Some  fifty  ten- 
ant-right members  were  elected.  Th^re  was  a  Tenant- 
right  Party  in  the  House  of  Commons,  "  the  Irish  Bri- 
gade "  it  came  to  be  called,  but  it  did  little  good  to  the 
cause  of  tenant-right.  Its  leader  was  the  once  famous 
John  Sadleir  ;  his  lieutenants  were  his  brother  James, 
Mr.  William  Keogh,  and  Mr.  Edmond  O'Flaherty ; 
these  men  were  all  adventurers  and  most  of  them 
swindlers.  For  a  time  they  deceived  the  Irish  people 
by  their  professions  and  protestations.  The  Sadleirs 
owned  the  Tipperary  Bank,  one  of  the  most  popular 


270  AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

banks  in  Ireland  ;  they  had  plenty  of  money,  and  spent 
it  lavishly  ;  they  started  a  paper,  the  Telegraphy  to  keep 
them  before  the  public  ;  they  were  good  speakers,  and 
they  led  good  speakers  ;  they  were  demonstratively 
Catholic,  and  for  a  time  a  good  many  people  believed 
in  them,  though  they  were,  of  course,  distrusted  by 
most  intelligent  Irishmen. 

In  November  Lord  Derby  went  out  of  office  and  Whig 
Lord  Aberdeen  came  in,  and  the  leaders  of  the  noisy, 
blatant,  brass  band  took  office  under  him.  John  Sad- 
lier  became  a  Lord  of  the  Treasury  ;  Keogh  was  made 
Irish  Solicitor-general ;  O'Flaherty  Commissioner  of 
Income  Tax.  There  was  fierce  indignation,  but  they 
kept  their  places  and  their  course  for  a  time.  Then 
they  broke  up.  John  Sadlier  had  embezzled,  swindled, 
forged  ;  he  ruined  half  Ireland  with  his  fraudulent  bank  ; 
he  made  use  of  his  position  under  government  to  embez- 
zle public  money  ;  he  committed  suicide.  His  brother 
was  expelled  from  the  House  of  Commons  ;  he  lied  the 
country  and  was  heardof.no  more.  O'Flaherty  hur- 
ried to  Denmark,  where  there  was  no  extradition  treaty, 
and  then  to  New  York.  Keogh,  the  fourth  of  this  fa- 
mous quadrilateral,  their  ally,  their  intimate,  their  faith- 
ful friend,  contrived  to  keep  himself  clear  of  the  crash. 
He  was  immediately  made  a  judge,  and  was  conspicuous 
for  the  rest  of  his  life  for  his  unfailing  and  unaltering 
hostility  to  any  and  every  Irish  national  party. 

Once  again  there  was  a  period  of  political  apathy,  as 
far  as  constitutional  agitation  was  concerned  ;  but  the 
'48  rebellion  had  left  rebellious  seed  behind  it.  Even 
as  the  United  Irishmen  had  generated  Repeal,  and  Re- 
peal Young  Ireland,  so  Young  Ireland  generated  the 
Phoenix  Conspiracy,  and  the  Phoenix  Conspiracy  soon 
grew  into  the  Fenian  Brotherhood,  a  vast  organiza- 
tion, with  members  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  with 
money  at  its  disposal,  and,  more  than  money,  with  sol- 
diers trained  by  the  American  Civil  War.  Irish-Amer- 
icans steadily  promulgated  the  cause  in  Ireland,  and 
prepared  for  the  rising.  The  Fenians  in  America  in- 
vaded Canada  on  the  31st  of  May,  1866,  occupied  Fort 
Erie,  defeated  the  Canadian  volunteers,  and  captured 
some  flags.  But  the  United  States  interfered  to  en- 
force the  neutrality  of  its  frontier,  arrested  most  of  the 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  271 

leaders,  and  extinguished  the  invasion.  The  Fenians 
in  England  planned  the  capture  of  Chester  Castle. 
The  scheme  was  to  seize  the  arms  in  the  castle,  to  has- 
ten on  to  Holyhead,  to  take  possession  of  such  steamers 
as  might  be  there,  and  invade  Ireland  before  the  au- 
thorities in  Ireland  could  be  prepared  for  the  blow ; 
but  the  plan  was  betrayed,  and  failed.     Then  in  March, 

1867,  an  attempt  at  a  general  rising  w^as  made  in  Ire- 
land, and  failed  completely  ;  the  very  elements  fought 
against  it.  Snow,  rare  in  Ireland,  fell  incessantly,  and 
practically  buried  the  rising  in  its  white  shroud.  Large 
numbers  of  prisoners  were  taken  in  England  and  Ireland, 
and  sentenced  to  penal  servitude.  In  Manchester  two 
Fenian  prisoners  were  released  from  the  prison-van  by 
some  armed  Fenians,  and  in  the  scuffle  a  policeman  was 
killed.  For  this,  three  of  the  rescuers — Allen,  Larkin, 
and  O'Brien — were  hanged.  Mr.  John  Stuart  Mill  and 
Mr.  Bright  strove  hard  to  save  their  lives,  with  all  the 
eloquence  and  all  the  influence  they  could  bring  to 
bear.  Mr.  Swinburne  addressed  a  noble  and  equally 
unsuccessful  poetic  ''Appeal"  to  England  to  "put 
forth  her  strength,  and  release,"  for  which  his  name 
should  be  held  in  eternal  honor  by  the  people  of  Ire- 
land. 

A  little  later  all  England  was  shocked  by  an  attempt 
in  its  very  heart  to  blow  up  Clerkenwell  Prison,  wherein 
certain  Fenian  prisoners  were  confined. 

But  the  succession  of  these  events  had  convinced  a 
statesman,  who  came  into  power  shortly  after,  that  the 
condition  of  Ireland  urgently  called  for  remedial  leg- 
islation.    The  Parliament  which  met  at  the  close  of 

1868,  under  Mr.  Gladstone's  leadership  in  the  Ffouse  of 
Commons,  was  known  to  be  prepared  to  deal  with  some 
of  the  most  pressing  of  Irish  questions  ;  of  these  the 
foremost  was  the  Irish  State  Church.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  enter  at  any  length  into  the  history  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  Mr.  Gladstone  accomplished  the  disestab- 
lishment and  the  disendowment  of  the  State  Church  of 
Ireland.  It  is  sufficient  here  to  record  the  fact  that  it 
was  disestablished  and  disendowed.  For  centuries  it 
"bad  been  one  of  the  bitterest  emblems  of  oppression  in 


,272  AN   OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Ireland.  In  a  country  of  which  the  vast  majority  were 
Catholic,  it  had  been,  in  the  words  of  Lord  Sherbrooke, 
then  Mr.  Lowe,  "  kept  alive  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
and  at  the  greatest  expense."  It  was  an  exotic  with 
the  curse  of  barrenness  upon  it,  and  Mr.  Lowe  called 
upon  the  government  to  "cut  it  down  :  why  cum- 
bereth  it  the  ground  ? "  The  government  replied  to 
the  appeal,  and  the  State  Church  in  Ireland  ceased  to 
exist.  This  done,  Mr.  Gladstone  turned  his  attention 
to  the  Irish  Land  Question — a  very  pressing  question 
indeed. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    LAND    QUESTION. 


In  all  the  melancholy  chronicles  of  Irish  misery  and 
disaffection,  and  of  unsuccessful  English  measures  to 
remedy  the  misery  and  to  coerce  the  disaffection,  the 
land  plays  an  important  part. 

After  the  incessant  confiscations  and  settlements  of 
Irish  soil,  the  vast  majority  of  the  Irish  people  were 
reduced  to  the  condition  of  mere  tenants  at  will  of 
landlords  who  were  either  foreigners  in  fact  or  in  sym- 
pathy. The  majority  of  the  landlords  were  actuated 
only  by  the  desire  to  get  as  high  a  price  as  they  could 
for  their  land  ;  and  the  need  of  land  was  so  imperative 
to  the  Irish  peasant,  who  had  nothing  but  the  land  to 
live  upon,  that  he  was  ready  to  take  any  terms,  no 
matter  how  terrible.  Of  course,  he  could  not  often 
pay  the  terms  exacted.  The  rack-rent  begot  the  evic- 
tion, and  the  eviction  begot  the  secret  societies — the 
Ribbon  lodges — which  the  Irish  peasant  began  to  look 
upon  as  his  sole  protection  against  landlord  tyranny. 
What,  exactly,  were  these  Ribbon  lodges,  which  are  so 
often  named  in  all  accounts  of  the  Irish  Land  Ques- 
tion ?  For  more  than  half  a  century  the  Ribbon  So- 
ciety has  existed  in  Ireland,  and  even  yet  it  is  impos- 
sible to  say  for  certain  how  it  began,  how  it  is  organ- 
ized, and  what  are  its  exact  purposes.     Its  aim  seems 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  273 

to  have  been  chiefly  to  defend  the  land-serf  from  the 
landlord,  but  it  often  had  a  strong  political  purpose  as 
well.  Mr.  A.  M.  Sullivan,  in  his  "New  Ireland,"  states 
that  he  long  ago  satisfied  himself  that  the  Ribbonism 
of  one  period  was  not  the  Ribbonism  of  another,  and 
that  the  version  of  its  aims  and  character  prevalent 
among  its  members  in  one  part  of  Ireland  often  differed 
widely  from  those  professed  in  some  other  part  of  the 
country.  *'In  Ulster  it  professed  to  be  a  defensive  or 
retaliatory  league  against  Orangeism  ;  in  Munster  it 
was  at  first  a  combination  against  tithe-proctors  ;  in 
Connaught  it  Avas  an  organization  against  rack-renting 
and  evictions ;  in  Leinster  it  was  often  mere  trade- 
unionism,  dictating  by  its  mandates  and  enforcing  by 
its  vengeance  the  employment  or  dismissal  of  work- 
men, stewards,  and  even  domestics."  All  sorts  of  evi- 
dence and  information  of  the  most  confused  kind  has 
been  from  time  to  time  given  with  respect  to  Ribbon- 
ism, much  of  it  the  merest  fiction.  All  that  is  certain 
is,  that  it  and  many  other  formidable  defensive  organi- 
zations existed  among  the  peasantry  of  different  parts 
of  Ireland. 

Perhaps  Ireland  was  the  only  country  in  the  world 
in  which  a  man  had  nothing  to  gain  by  improving  the 
land  he  lived  upon.  If  he  improved  it,  he  was  certain 
in  nine  case-s  out  of  ten  to  have  his  rent  raised  upon 
him  as  a  reward  of  his  labor.  He  was  absolutely  at 
the .  mercy,  or  rather  the  want  of  mercy,  of  his  land- 
lord, whom  he  perhaps  had  never  seen  ;  for  many  of 
the  landlords  were  absentees,  living  out  of  Ireland  on 
the  money  they  took  from  the  country.  The  Irish 
peasant's  misery  did  not  pass  altogether  unnoticed. 
Ever  since  the  Union,  select  committees  had  again  and 
again  reported  the  distress  in  the  fullest  manner.  Too 
often  the  report  was  left  to  lie  in  bulky  oblivion  upon 
the  dusty  shelves  of  state  libraries,  or  was  answered  by 
a  coercive  measure.  No  attempt  was  made  for  many 
years  to  feed  the  famished  peasant  or  to  relieve  the 
evicted  tenant.  Legislation  only  sought  to  make  sure 
that  while  their  complaints  Avere  unheeded  their  hands 
should  be  stayed  from  successful  revenge.  The  great- 
est concession  that  government  made  for  many  genera- 
tions to  the  misery  of  the  Irish  tenant  was  to  pass  an 


274  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

act  prohibiting  evictions  on  Christmas  Day  and  Good 
Friday,  and  enacting  that  the  roof  of  a  tenant's  house 
should  not  be  pulled  off  until  the  inmates  had  left. 

A  select  committee  was  appointed  in  1819,  under  the 
presidency  of  Sir  John  Newton,  which  reported  on  the 
great  misery  of  the  laboring  poor,  and  unavailingly 
urged  agricultural  reform,  especially  advising  the  re- 
clamation of  waste  lands.  Another  committee  re- 
ported in  1823  that  the  condition  of  the  people  was 
miserable  ;  and,  also,  unsuccessfully  urged  the  import- 
ance of  some  form  of  agricultural  relief.  Two  years 
later,  in  1825,  a  fresh  select  committee  gave  fresh  evi- 
dence as  to  the  misery  of  the  country,  and  made  fresh 
suggestions  that  something  should  be  done  for  the  Irish 
tenant  ;  and,  as  before,  nothing  was  done.  The  act  of 
1793,  giving  every  forty-shilling  freeholder  a  vote,  had 
indirectly  injured  the  people,  as  the  landlords  leased 
small  patches  of  land  to  increase  their  political  power. 
The  Emancipation  Act  of  1829,  abolishing  the  vote  of 
the  forty-shilling  freeholder,  removed  with  it  the  land- 
lords' interest  in  small  holdings,  and  so  again  caused 
misery  to  the  people  by  its  introduction  of  the  system 
of  clearances.  In  1829  the  condition  of  the  tenant 
farmers  and  laboring  classes  of  Ireland  was  brought 
forcibly  under  the  notice  of  the  government  by  Mr. 
Brownlow,  who  went  so  far  as  to  ask  leaA^e  to  bring  in 
a  bill  to  facilitate  the  reclamation  of  waste  lands.  The 
bill  passed  the  Commons,  and  was  read  a  second  time 
in  the  Lords.  It  w^as  then  referred  to  a  select  commit- 
tee, and  heard  of  no  more.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  an 
Arms  Bill,  which  an  English  peer  was  found  to  de- 
nounce as  vexatious  and  aggressive,  was  successfully 
carried.  In  1830  Mr.  Henry  Grattan,  son  of  Ireland's 
great  orator,  and  Mr.  Spring  Rice,  afterwards  Lord 
Monteagle,  urged  the  sufferings  of  Ireland  upon  the 
government,  and  strongly  advocated  the  reclamation  of 
waste  lands.  But  nothing  -whatever  was  done  beyond 
the  appointment  of  a  select  committee.  This  select 
committee  of  1830  had  the  same  story  to  tell  that  all 
its  unfortunate  predecessors  told.     It  appealed  in  vain. 

The  valuation  of  Ireland  was  undertaken  in  1830,  on 
the  recommendation  of  a  select  committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons  in  1824.     To  insure  uniform  valuation,  an 


AN-  OUTLINE   OF  IJ^/S^  HISTORY.  275 

act  was  passed  in  1836.  requiring  all  valuations  of  land 
to  be  based  on  a  fixed  scale  of  agricultural  produce, 
contained  in  the  act.  The  valuators  were  instructed  to 
act  in  the  same  manner  as  if  employed  by  a  principal 
landlord  dealing  with  a  solvent  tenant.  The  average 
valuation  proved  to  be  about  twenty-five  per  cent,  under 
the  gross  rental  of  the  country.  In  1844  a  select  com- 
mittee of  the  House  of  Commons  was  appointed  to  re- 
consider the  question  ;  and  an  act  passed  in  1846  changed 
the  principle  of  valuation  from  a  relative  valuation  of 
town  lands  based  on  a  fixed  scale  of  agricultural  prod- 
uce to  a  tenement  valuation  for  poor-law  rating,  to  be 
made  "  upon  an  estimate  of  the  net  annual  value  ...  of 
the  rent,  for  which,  one  year  with  another,  the  same 
might  in  its  actual  state  be  reasonably  expected  to  let 
from  year  to  year."  The  two  valuations  gave  substan- 
tially the  same  results.  In  1852  another  Valuation  Act 
was  passed,  returning  to  the  former  principle  of  valua- 
tion by  a  fixed  scale  of  agricultural  produce  ;  but  Sir 
Richard  Griffith's  evidence  in  1869  shows  the  valuation 
employed  was  a  "live-and-let-live  valuation,  according 
to  the  state  of  prices,  for  five  years  previous  to  "  the 
time  of  valuation. 

In  1830  famine  and  riot  held  hideous  carnival.  We 
learn  from  the  speech  from  the  throne  that  the  king 
was  determined  to  crush  out  sedition  and  disaffection 
by  all  the  means  which  the  law  and  the  constitution 
placed  at  his  disposal,  but  had  no  remedy  to  suggest 
for  the  poverty  and  distress  of  the  disaffected  people. 
In  February  183 1,  Mr.  Smith  O'Brien  asked  leave  to 
bring  in  a  bill  for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  but  got  no 
hope  or  encouragement  from  the  government.  At  this 
time  Mr.  Hume  attacked  the  ministry  for  introduc- 
ing a  coercive  Irish  policy,  which  was  in  direct  opposi- 
tion to  the  promises  of  conciliationthey  had  made  while 
they  were  in  opposition.  On  the  30th  of  March,  1831, 
Lord  Althorpe  proposed  a  vote  of  ^50,000,  to  be  ad- 
vanced to  commissioners  for  expenditure  on  public 
works  in  Ireland  ;  but  its  effect  was  counterbalanced 
four  months  later  by  the  introduction  of  Mr.  Stanley's 
Arms  Bill,  which  Lord  Althorpe  himself  described  as 
one  of  the  most  tyrannical  measures  he  ever  heard  pro- 
posed.    A  Sub-letting  Act,  which  was  now  under  dis- 


3T6  AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

cussion,  prohibited  the  letting  of  property  by  a  lessee, 
unless  with  the  express  consent  of  the  proprietor.  Ac- 
cording to  Dr.  Boyle,  who  attacked  the  bill,  so  long  as 
the  rural  population  had  no  better  employment  or  sure 
chance  of  subsistence  than  the  possession  of  a  potato 
field,  it  was  idle  to  expect  them  to  submit  to  eviction 
from  their  miserable  holdings.  By  this  time  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland  was  truly  desperate.  Catholic  Eman- 
cipation had,  indeed,  allowed  Irish  Catholic  members  to 
sit  in  the  House  of  Commons,  but  it  disfranchised  the 
forty-shilling  freeholders,  and  it  gave  the  landlords 
greater  opportunity  for  clearance. 

Government  answered  the  discontent  in  183 1  by 
another  Coercion  Bill.  In  1834  Mr.  Poulett  Scrope 
made  an  unsuccessful  effort  to  do  something  for  the 
Irish  tenant.  In  1835  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford,  then 
member  for  Dundalk,  moved  for  leave  to  bring  in  a  bill 
to  amend  the  law  of  landlord  and  tenant,  and  he  rein- 
troduced his  measure  on  the  loth  of  March,  1836  ;  he 
obtained  leave  to  bring  in  a  bill,  and  that  was  the  end 
of  it.  In  1837  Mr.  Lynch  asked  leave  to  bring  in  a  bill 
on  waste  lands,  and  was  as  unsuccessful  as  Mr.  Sharman 
Crawford. 

In  1842  the  Irish  Artificial  Drainage  Act  did  some- 
thing towards  the  reclam.ation  of  waste  lands,  which, 
however,  was  of  little  use  until  amended  by  the  Sum- 
mary Proceedings  Act  of  1843.  1843  is  a  memorable 
epoch  in  the  history  of  the  Irish  land  agitation.  It  was 
the  year  of  the  Devon  Commission,  which  Sir  Robert 
Peel  appointed  in  answer  to  the  repeated  entreaties 
of  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford.  The  evidence  of  the 
Devon  Commission,  in  its  two  years'  labors,  showed, 
as  all  other  commissions  had  shown,  that  the  condi- 
tion of  the  Irish  peasant  was  miserable  in  the  ex- 
treme ;  that  the  fatal  system  of  land  tenure  was  the 
cause  of  the  misery ;  and  urged  that  the  tenant 
should  be  secured  fair  remuneration  for  his  outlay 
of  capital  and  labor.  Lord  Devon  was  determined 
that,  if  he  could  help  it,  the  commission  should  not 
prove  valueless.  On  the  6th  of  May,  1845,  he  presented 
a  number  of  petitions,  urging  Parliament  to  secure  to 
industrious  tenants  the  benefits  of  their  improvements. 
Lord   Stanley  replied  by  introducing  a  Compensation 


AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  ^77 

for  Disturbance  Bill  in  June,  but  he  had  to  nbandon 
it  in  July  through  the  opposition  of  the  Lords,  the 
Commons,  and  the  select  committee  to  whom  it  had 
been  intrusted.  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford  then  introduced 
the  Tenant-right  Bill,  which  he  had  kept  back  in  1843 
in  order  to  await  the  result  of  the  Devon  Commission. 
In  1846  Lord  Lincoln,  urged  by  Mr.  Sharman  Craw- 
ford, brought  in  a  Compensation  for  Disturbance  Bill, 
but  the  ministry  resigned  before  it  came  to  a  second 
reading,  and  so  it  was  forgotten.  On  the  loth  of  June, 
1847,  Mr.  Sharman  Crawford's  Tenant-right  Bill  was 
rejected  by  a  majority  of  eighty-seven.  He  brought  it 
forward  again  in  1848,  and  it  was  defeated  on  the  5th 
of  April  by  a  majority  of  twenty-three.  In  1848  Sir 
William  Somerville,  as  Irish  Secretary,  brought  in  a 
bill  which  was  practically  the  same  as  Lord  Lincoln's 
measure  of  1846.  The  Irish  members  supported  it. 
The  report  upon  the  bill  was  not  ready  until  too  near 
the  end  of  the  session  to  make  any  further  progress 
with  it,  but  the  government  determined  that  Ireland 
should  not  want  some  legislation  during  the  session, 
and  so  they  suspended  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act.  In 
1849  Mr.  Horsman  urged  unsuccessfully  the  presenta- 
tion of  an  address  pointing  out  to  her  majesty  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland.  Early  in  1850  Sir  William  Somer- 
ville reintroduced  his  bill,  which  was  read  a  second 
time,  given  a  committee,  and  suffered  to  disappear. 
Mr.  Sharman  Crawford  again  unsuccessfully  endeav- 
ored to  push  forward  his  Tenant-right  Bill.  In  1851 
Sir  H.  W.  Barron's  motion  for  a  Committee  of  the 
whole  House  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  Ireland  was 
negatived  by  a  majority  of  nine. 

Nothing,  therefore,  had  been  done  for  the  Irish  ten- 
ant since  the  report  of  the  Devon  Commission.  The 
Encumbered  Estates  Act  had  been  passed  for  the  Irish 
landlord.  On  the  loth  of  February,  1852,  Mr.  Shar- 
man Crawford  obtained  leave  to  bring  in  a  bill  to  regu- 
late the  Ulster  custom.  Then  the  ministry  went  out 
of  office,  and  the  bill,  on  its  second  reading,  was  re- 
jected by  a  majority  of  one  hundred  and  ten,  under 
Lord  Derby's  Conservative  government.  The  govern- 
ment showed  a  disposition  to  do  something  in  the  Irish 
question.      Mr.    Napier,   the    Irish   Attorney-General, 


278  AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTOHY, 

drafted  four  bills  for  regulating  the  relations  of  land- 
lord and  tenant  in  Ireland,  a  Land  Improvement  Bill, 
a  Landlord  and  Tenant  Law  Consolidation  Bill,  a  Leas- 
ing Powers  Bill,  and  a  Tenants'  Improvements  Com- 
pensation Bill,  In  1853  the  committee  appointed  to 
consider  Mr.  Napier's  bills  and  Mr.  Sharman  Craw- 
ford's bill  rejected  the  latter  measure,  and  considerably- 
amended,  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  tenant,  the  fourth 
of  Mr.  Napier's  measures.  Since  Mr.  Napier  had  in- 
troduced them  the  liberal  party  had  come  into  power. 
Mr.  Napier,  though  in  opposition,  still  did  all  he  could 
to  assist  the  passing  of  his  own  measures,  but  his  party 
fought  bitterly  against  them.  In  1854  the  bills  were 
referred  to  a  select  committee  of  the  House  of  Lords. 
The  Tenants'  Compensation  Bill  w^as  condemned,  and 
the  other  bills  sent  down  to  the  House  of  Commons 
without  it.  In  1855  Mr.  Sergeant  Shee  endeavored  to 
bring  in  a  bill  that  was  practically  the  same  as  this  re- 
jected measure,  and  the  government  took  charge  of  it, 
only  to  abandon  it  before  the  opposition  of  the  land- 
lords. Mr.  Sharman  Crawford's  Tenant  Bill  was  in 
consequence  introduced  again  by  Mr.  George  Henry 
Moore,  the  leader  of  the  Irish  party,  in  1856,  but  it  had 
to  be  dropped  in  consequence  of  the  opposition  of  the 
government.  It  was  again  brought  forward  by  Mr. 
Moore  in  1857,  and  again  withdrav.m.  In  1858  Mr.  Ser- 
geant Shee's  Tenant  Compensation  Bill  was  reintro- 
duced by  Mr.  John  Francis  Maguire,  then  leader  of 
the  Irish  party,  and  defeated  by  a  majority  of  forty-five. 
The  indifference  of  the  government  at  this  time  to  the 
Irish  question  was  made  the  more  marked  by  the  fact 
that  the  land  question  of  Bengal  had  been  settled  in 
accordance  with  ancient  principles  of  Indian  law,  which 
granted  to  the  Indian  subject  much  that  was  denied 
the  Irish  subject.  In  i860,  however,  the  famous  Land 
Act  was  passed,  which  proved  so  unsatisfactory.  The 
framers  of  the  Act  of  i860  tried  to  simplify  the  rela- 
tions of  landlord  and  tenant  by  sweeping  away  all  re- 
mains of  the  feudal  connection,  and  by  establishing  an 
absolute  principle  of  free  trade  and  freedom  of  con- 
tract as  opposed  to  tenure. 

But  the  Act  of  i860  was  a  failure,  in  so  far  as  it  was 
based  upon  that  principle  of  freedom  of  contract  which 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  279 

is  wholly  unsuited  to  the  Irish  Land  Question.  ''  Tlie 
Irish  circumstances  and  Irish  ideas  as  to  social  and 
agricultural  economy,"  said  John  Stuart  Mill,  "are  the 
general  ideas  and  circumstances  of  the  human  race.  It 
is  the  English  ideas  and  circumstances  that  are  pe- 
culiar. Ireland  is  in  the  mid-stream  of  human  exist- 
ence and  human  feeling  and  opinion.  It  is  England 
that  is  in  one  of  the  lateral  channels." 

To  those  who  ask  why  the  tenants  take  the  land 
when  they  cannot  fulfil  their  contract,  the  answer  is, 
They  cannot  help  themselves  in  what  they  do.  The 
Irish  cling  to  their  land  because  all  their  other  means 
of  livelihood  have  been  destroyed.  They  make  the 
best  terms  they  can,  which  in  truth,  means  bowing  to 
whatever  the  master  of  the  situation  imposes.  The 
freedom-of-contract  argument  has  been  very  fairly  dis- 
posed of  by  asking,  ''Why  does  Parliament  regulate, 
or  fix  and  limit,  the  price  which  a  railway  company 
charges  for  a  travelling  ticket  ?  Why  are  not  the  con- 
tracting parties,  the  railway  company  and  the  traveller, 
left  to  settle  between  them  how  miuch  the  price  in  every 
particular  case  shall  be  ?  "  It  is  because  the  law  says 
they  are  not  free  contracting  parties  ;  the  railway  com- 
pany has  a  monopoly  of  that  which  is  in  a  sense  a  ne- 
cessity to  the  traveller  and  others.  Also,  if  the  matter 
were  left  to  contract,  travellers  would  practically  have 
to  give  five  shillings  a  mile  if  the  company  demanded 
it.  The  immediate  effect  of  the  act  was  to  produce  an 
immense  flood  of  emigration,  and  to  create  the  Fenian 
Conspiracy.  Mr.  Chichester  Fortescue's  bill  of  1866, 
to  amend  that  of  i860,  of  course  fell  through.  In  1867 
the  Tories  brought  in  a  fresh  bill,  which  was  practically 
Lord  Stanley's  bill  of  1845,  which  had  to  be  abandoned. 
In  1869  Mr.  Gladstone  came  in,  and  on  the  15th  of 
February,  1870,  he  brought  in  his  famous  Bill  to  Amend 
the  Law  of  Landlord  and  Tenant  in  Ireland,  the  first 
bill  that  really  did  anything  to  carry  out  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  Devon  Commission.  But  it  did  not 
really  place  the  tenant  beyond  the  vicious  control  of 
the  landlord.  It  allowed  him  the  privilege  of  going  to 
law  with  the  landlord  ;  and  going  to  law  in  such  a  case 
generally  meant  the  success  of  the  man  who  was  long- 
est able  to  fight  it  out.     The  three  objects  of  the  Land 


280  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

Act  of  1870  were — first,  to  obtain  for  the  tenants  in  Ire- 
land security  of  tenure  ;  second,  to  encourage  the  mak- 
ing of  improvements  throughout  the  country  ;  and, 
third,  to  get  a  peasant  proprietorship  in  Ireland.  It 
made  no  alteration  in  the  tenancies  held  under  the 
Ulster  tenant-right  custom,  which  it  merely  sanctioned 
and  enforced  against  the  landlords  of  estates  subject  to 
it.  The  Ulster  custom  consists  of  two  chief  features — 
permissive  fixity  of  tenure,  and  the  tenant's  right  to 
sell  the  good-will  of  his  farm.  For  a  long  time  the 
hope  of  getting  the  Ulster  custom  transferred  to  the 
other  provinces  was  almost  the  highest  ambition  of  the 
Irish  peasant. 

The  framers  of  the  act  of  1870  dared  not  state  open- 
ly, and  it  was  constantly  denied,  that  the  object  of  the 
new  measure  was  to  give  the  tenant  any  estate  in  the 
land,  or  to  transfer  to  him  any  portion  of  the  absolute 
ownership.  Its  principle  of  arrangement  between  land- 
lord and  tenant  was  described  as  a  process  by  which 
bad  landlords  were  obliged  to  act  as  the  good  landlords 
did  ;  but  it  might  have  been  more  justly  styled  an 
enactment  by  which  the  amusement  of  evicting  tenants 
was  made  a  monopoly  of  the  wealthier  proprietors. 
The  principle  of  compensation  for  disturbance  which 
it  introduced  was  clumsy  and  imperfect,  and  the  eight 
clauses  which  attempted  to  create  a  peasant  proprietor- 
ship in  Ireland  were  no  more  successful  than  the  rest 
of  the  bill.  "The  cause  of  their  failure  is  obvious," 
says  Mr.  Richey,  "  to  any  one  acquainted  with  the 
nature  of  the  landed  estates  title  which  it  was  consid- 
ered desirable  for  the  tenant  to  obtain.  A  Landed- 
estates-Court  conveyance  affects  not  only  the  rights  of 
the  parties  to  the  proceedings,  but  binds  persons, 
whether  parties  or  not,  and  extinguishes  all  rights 
which  are  inconsistent  with  the  terms  of  the  grant  by 
the  court.  If  by  any  mistake  more  lands  than  should 
properly  be  sold  are  included  in  the  grant,  or  the  most 
indisputable  rights  of  third  parties  are  not  noticed  in 
the  body  of  the  grant  or  the  annexed  schedule,  irre- 
parable injustice  is  done  and  the  injured  parties  have 
no  redress."  The  fact  that  the  court  was  not  made  the 
instrument  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  grossest  frauds 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  281 

is  due  solely  to  the  stringency  of  its  rules  and  the  in- 
telligence of  its  officers. 

Interwoven  with  all  these  abortive  land  schemes  and 
land  measures  was  incessant  uninterrupted  coercive 
legislation.  From  1796  to  1802  an  Insurrection  Act  was 
in  force,  and  from  1797  to  1802  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act 
was  suspended.  From  1803  to  1805  the  country  was 
under  martial  law,  and  from  the  same  year  to  1806  Ha- 
beas Corpus  was  suspended.  Insurrection  Acts  were 
in  force  from  1807  to  1810,  from  1814  to  1818,  from  1822 
to  1825.  Habeas  Corpus  was  again  suspended  in  1822 
to  1823.  In  1829,  in  the  debate  on  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion, Sir  Robert  Peel  was  able  to  say  that  "  for  scarcely 
a  year  during  the  period  that  has  elapsed  since  the 
Union  has  Ireland  been  governed  by  the  ordinary  course 
of  law."  From  the  date  of  that  utterance  to  the  present 
day  the  country  has  not  been  governed  by  the  ordinary 
law  for  scarcely  a  single  year.  Arms  Acts,  suspensions 
of  Habeas  Corpus,  changes  of  venue,  Peace  Preserva- 
tion Acts,  and  coercive  measures  of  all  kinds,  succeed, 
accompany,  and  overlap  each  other  with  melancholy 
persistence.  Roughly  speaking,  Ireland  from  the  Un- 
ion to  1880  was  never  governed  by  the  ordinary .  law. 
The  Union,  according  to  its  advocates,  was  to  be  the 
bond  of  lasting  peace  and  affection  between  the  two 
countries  ;  it  was  followed  by  eighty  years  of  coercive 
legislation.  It  was  grimly  fitting  that  the  Union  so  un- 
lawfully accomplished  could  only  be  sustained  by  the 
complete  abandonment  of  all  ordinary  processes  of  law 
thereafter. 


CHAPTER  XL 

HOME  RULE. — THE  LAND  LEAGUE. 

For  some  years  after  the  failure  of  the  Fenian  insur- 
rection there  was  no  political  agitation  in  Ireland  ;  but 
in  1873  a  new  national  movement  began  to  make  itself 
felt  ;  this  was  the  Home  Rule  movement.  It  had  been 
gradually   formed   since '1870  by  one  or  two  leading 


282  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

Irishmen,  who  thonght  the  time  was  ripe  for  anew  con- 
stitutional effort  ;  chief  among  them  was  Mr.  Isaac 
Butt,  a  Protestant,  an  eminent  lawyer,  and  an  earnest 
politician.  The  movement  spread  rapidly,  and  took  a 
firm  hold  of  the  popular  mind.  After  the  general  elec- 
tion of  1874,  some  sixty  Irish  members  were  returned, 
who  had  stood  before  their  constitutencies  as  Home 
Rulers.  The  Home  Rule  demand  is  clear  and  simple 
enough ;  it  asks  for  Ireland  a  separate  government, 
still  allied  with  the  imperial  government,  on  the  prin- 
ciples which  regulate  the  alliance  between  the  United 
States  of  America.  The  proposed  Irish  Parliament  in 
College  Green  would  bear  just  the  same  relation  to  the 
Parliament  at  Westminster  that  the  Legislature  and 
Senate  of  every  American  state  bear  to  the  head  author- 
ity of  the  Congress  in  the  Capitol  at  Washington.  All 
that  relates  to  local  business  it  was  proposed  to  dele- 
gate to  the  Irish  Assembly  ;  all  questions  of  imperial 
policy  were  still  to  be  left  to  the  imperial  government. 
There  was  nothing  very  startling,  very  daringly  inno- 
vating, in  the  scheme.  In  most  of  the  dependencies  of 
Great  Britain,  Home  Rule  systems  of  some  kind  were 
already  established.  In  Canada,  in  the  Australasian 
colonies,  the  principle  might  be  seen  at  work  upon  a 
large  scale  ;  upon  a  small  scale  it  was  to  pe  studied 
nearer  home  in  the  neighboring  Island  of  Man.  One 
of  the  chief  objections  raised  to  the  new  proposal  by 
those  who  thought  it  really  worth  while  to  raise  any 
objections  at  all,  was  that  it  would  be  practically  im- 
possible to  decide  the  border  line  between  local  affairs 
and  imperial  affairs.  The  answer  to  this  is,  of  course, 
that  what  has  not  been  found  impossible,  or  indeed  ex- 
ceedingly difficult,  in  the  case  of  the  American  repub- 
lic and  its  component  states,  or  in  the  case  of  England 
and  her  American  and  Australasian  colonies,  need  not 
be  found  to  present  unsurpassable  difficulties  in  the 
case  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

''  If  the  Home  Rule  theory,"  says  Mr.  Lecky,  "brings 
with  it  much  embarrassment  to  English  statesmen,  it  is 
at  least  a  theory  which  is  within  the  limits  of  the  con- 
stitution, which  is  supported  by  means  that  are  per- 
fectly loyal  and  legitimate,  and  which,  like  every  other 
theory,  must  be  discussed  and  judged  upon  its  merits." 


AN"  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY,  5>83 

This  is  exactly  what  English  statesmen  and  politicians 
generally  have  refused  to  do.  They  will  have  none  of 
the  Home  Rule  theory  ;  they  will  not  admit  that  it 
comes  within  the  limits  of  a  constitutional  question  ; 
Home  Rule  never  could  and  never  shall  be  granted, 
and  so  what  is  the  use  of  discussing  it  ?  This  was  cer- 
tainly the  temper  in  which  Home  Rule  was  at  first  re- 
ceived in  and  out  of  Parliament.  Of  late  days,  politi- 
cians who  have  come  to  concede  the  possibility,  if  not 
the  practicability,  of  some  system  of  local  government 
for  Ireland,  still  fight  off  the  consideration  of  the  ques- 
tion by  saying,  "  What  is  the  use  of  discussing  Home 
Rule  until  you  who  support  it  present  us  with  a  clear 
and  defined  plan  for  our  consideration  ?  "  This  form 
of  argument  is  no  less  unreasonable  than  the  other. 
The  supporters  of  Home  Rule  very  fairly  say,  ''We 
maintain  the  necessity  for  establishing  a  system  of  local 
government  in  Ireland.  That  cannot  be  done  without 
the  government  ;  till,  therefore,  the  government  is  will- 
ing to  admit  that  Home  Rule  is  a  question  to  be  enter- 
tained at  all,  it  is  no  use  bringing  forward  any  particular 
plan  ;  when  it  is  once  admitted  that  some  system  of 
Home  Rule  must  be  established  in  Ireland,  then  will 
be  the  time  for  bringing  forward  legislative  schemes 
and  plans,  and  out  of  the  multiplicity  of  ideas  and  sug- 
gestions creating  a  complete  and  cohesive  whole.' '  The 
principle  of  Home  Rule  obtains  in  every  state  of  the 
American  Union,  though  the  plan  of  Home  Rule  in 
each  particular  state  is  widely  different.  The  principle 
of  Home  Rule  obtains  in  every  great  colony  of  the 
crown,  but  the  plan  pursued  by  each  colony  is  of  a  very 
different  kind.  When  the  people  of  the  two  countries 
have  agreed  together  to  allow  Ireland  to  manage  for 
herself  her  own  local  affairs,  it  will  be  very  easy  to 
bring  forward  some  scheme  exactly  deciding  the  form 
which  the  conceded  Home  Rule  is  to  take.  But  to 
bring  forward  the  completed  scheme  before  a  common 
basis  of  negotiation  has  been  established  would  be  more 
the  duty  of  a  new  Abbe  Sieyes,  with  a  new  "theory  of 
irregular  verbs,"  than  of  a  practical  and  serious  politi- 
cian. 

At  first  the  Home  Rule  party  was  not  very  active. 
Mr.  Butt  used  to  have  a  regular  Home  Rule  debate 


284  AN  OUTLINE   OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

once  every  session,  when  he  and  his  followers  stated 
their  views,  and  a  division  was  taken  and  the  Home 
Rulers  were,  of  course,  defeated.  Yet,  while  the  Eng- 
lish House  of  Commons  was  thus  steadily  rejecting, 
year  after  year,  the  demand  made  for  Home  Rule  by 
the  large  majority  of  the  Irish  members,  it  was  afford- 
ing a  strong  argument  in  favor  of  some  system  of  local 
government,  by  consistently  outvoting  every  propo- 
sition brought  forward  by  the  bulk  of  the  Irish  mem- 
bers relating  to  Irish  questions.  In  1874  it  threw  out 
the  Irish  Municipal  Franchise  Bill,  the  Irish  Municipal 
Privileges  Bill,  and  the  bill  for  the  purchase  of  Irish 
railways.  In  1875  it  threw  out  the  motion  for  inquiry 
into  the  working  of  the  Land  Act,  the  Grand  Jury  Re- 
form Bill,  the  Irish  Municipal  Corporations  Bill,  the 
Municipal  Franchise  Bill.  In  1876  it  threw  out  the 
Irish  Fisheries  Bill,  the  Irish  Borough  Franchise  Bill, 
the  Irish  Registration  of  Voters  Bill,  and  the  Irish 
Land  Bill.  These  were  all  measures  purely  relating  to 
Irish  affairs,  which,  had  they  been  left  to  the  decision 
of  the  Irish  members  alone,  would  have  been  carried 
by  overwhelming  majorities.  The  Irish  vote  in  favor 
of  these  measures  was  seldom  less  than  twice  as  great 
as  the  opposing  vote  ;  in  some  cases  it  was  three  times 
as  great,  in  some  cases  it  was  four,  seven,  and  eight 
times  greater. 

Mr.  Butt  and  his  followers  had  proved  the  force  of 
the  desire  for  some  sort  of  national  government  in  Ire- 
land, but  the  strength  of  the  movement  they  had  creat- 
ed now  called  for  stronger  leaders.  A  new  man  was 
coming  into  Irish  political  life,  who  was  destined  to  be 
the  most  remarkable  Irish  leader  since  O'Connell. 

Mr.  Charles  Stewart  Parnell,  who  entered  the  House 
of  Commons  in  1875  as  a  member  for  Meath,  was  a 
descendant  of  the  English  poet  Parnell,  and  of  the  two 
Parnells,  father  and  son,  John  and  Henry,  who  stood 
by  Grattan  to  the  last  in  the  struggle  against  the  Union. 
He  was  a  grand-nephew  of  Sir  Henry  Parnell,  the  first 
Lord  Congleton,  the  advanced  reformer,  and  friend  of 
Lord  Grey  and  Lord  Melbourne.  He  was  Protestant, 
and  a  member  of  the  Protestant  Synod.  Mr.  Parnell 
set  himself  to  form  a  party  of  Irishmen  in  the  House  of 
Commons  who  should  be  absolutely  independent  of  any 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  285 

English  political  party,  and  who  would  go  their  own 
way,  with  only  the  cause  of  Ireland  to  influence  them. 
Mr.  Parnell  had  all  the  qualities  that  go  to  make  a  good 
political  leader,  and  he  succeeded  in  his  purpose.  The 
more  advanced  men  in  and  out  of  Parliament  began  to 
look  up  to  him  as  the  real  representative  of  the  popu- 
^^lar  voice.  In  1878  Mr.  Butt  died.  He  had  done  good 
service  in  his  life  ;  he  had  called  the  Irish  Home  Rule 
party  into  existence,  and  he  had  done  his  best  to  form 
a  cohesive  parliamentary  party.  If  his  ways  were  not 
the  ways  most  in  keeping  wuth  the  political  needs  of 
the  hour,  he  was  an  honest  and  able  politician,  he  w^as 
a  sincere  Irisliman,  and  his  name  deserves  grateful  re- 
collection in  Ireland.  The  leadership  of  the  Irish  par- 
liamentary party  was  given  to  Mr.  William  Shaw, 
member  for  Cork  county,  an  able,  intelligent  man,  who 
proved  himself  in  many  ways  a  good  leader.  In  quieter 
times  his  authority  might  have  remained  unquestioned, 
but  these  were  unquiet  times.  The  decorous  and  de- 
mure attitude  of  the  early  Home  Rule  party  was  to  be 
changed  into  a  more  aggressive  action,  and  Mr.  Parnell 
was  the  champion  of  the  change.  It  w^as  soon  obvious 
that  he  w^as  the  real  leader  recognized  by  the  majority 
of  the  Irish  Home  Rule  members,  and  by  the  country 
behind  them. 

Mr.  Parnell  and  his  following  have  been  bitterly  de- 
nounced for  pursuing  an  obstructive  policy.  They  are 
often  written  about  as  if  they  had  invented  obstruc- 
tion ;  as  if  obstruction  of  the  most  audacious  kind  had 
never  been  practised  in  the  House  of  Commons  before 
Mr.  Parnell  entered  it.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  admitted 
that  the  Irish  members  made  more  use  of  obstruction 
than  had  been  done  before  their  time  ;  yet  it  should  be 
remembered  that  the  early  Irish  obstruction  was  on 
English  measures,  and  was  carried  on  with  the  active 
advice  and  assistance  of  English  members.  The  Tory 
party  was  then  in  power,  and  the  advanced  Liberals 
were  found  often  enough  voting  with  the  Obstruction- 
ists in  their  fiercest  obstruction  to  the  existing  govern- 
ment. The  Irish  party  fought  a  good  fight  on  the 
famous  South  African  Bill,  a  fight  which  not  a  few 
Englishmen  now  would  heartily  wish  had  proved  suc- 
cessful.    It  should  also  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Par- 


286  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY, 

nell  did  some  good  service  to  English  legislation  :  he 
worked  hard  to  reform  the  Factories  and  Workshops 
Bill  in  1878,  the  Prison  Code,  and  the  Army  and  Navy- 
Mutiny  Bills.  Many  of  his  amendments  were  admitted 
to  be  of  value  ;  many,  in  the  end,  were  accepted.  His 
earnest  efforts  contributed  in  no  small  degree  to  the 
abolition  of  flogging  in  the  army. 

The  times  undoubtedly  were  unquiet ;  the  policy 
which  was  called  in  England  obstructive  and  in  Ireland 
active  was  obviously  popular  w^th  the  vast  majority 
of  the  Irish  people.  The  Land  Question,  too,  was 
coming  up  again,  and  in  a  stronger  form  than  ever. 
Mr.  Butt,  not  very  long  before  his  death,  had  warned 
the  House  of  Commons  that  the  old  land  war  was 
going  to  break  out  anew,  and  he  was  laughed  at 
for  his  vivid  fancy  by  the  English  press  and  by  English 
public  opinion  ;  but  he  proved  a  true  prophet.  Mr. 
Parnell  had  carefully  studied  the  condition  of  the  Irish 
tenant,  and  he  saw  that  the  Land  Act  of  1870  was  not 
the  last  word  of  legislation  on  his  behalf.  Mr.  Parnell 
was  at  first  an  ardent  advocate  of  what  came  to  be 
known  as  the  three  F's — fair  rent,  fixity  of  tenure,  and 
free  sale.  But  the  three  F's  were  soon  to  be  put  aside 
in  favor  of  more  advanced  ideas.  Outside  Parliament 
a  strenuous  and  earnest  man  was  preparing  to  inaugu- 
rate the  greatest  land  agitation  ever  seen  in  Ireland. 
Mr.  Michael  Davitt  ^vas  the  son  of  an  evicted  tenant ; 
his  earliest  youthful  impressions  had  been  of  the  misery 
of  the  Irish  peasant  and  the  tyranny  of  the  Irish  land- 
lord. The  evicted  tenant  and  his  family  came  to  Eng- 
land, to  Lancashire.  The  boy  Michael  was  put  to  work 
in  a  mill,  where  he  lost  his  right  arm  by  a  machine 
accident.  When  he  grew  to  be  a  young  man  he  joined 
the  Fenians,  and  in  1870,  on  the  evidence  of  an  inform- 
er, he  was  arrested  and  sentenced  to  fifteen  years'  penal 
servitude  ;  seven  years  later  he  was  let  out  on  ticket-of- 
leave.  In  his  long  imprisonment  he  had  thought 
deeply  upon  the  political  and  social  condition  of  Ire- 
land and  the  best  means  of  improving  it.  When  he 
came  out  he  had  abandoned  his  dreams  of  armed  rebel- 
lion, and  he  went  in  for  constitutional  agitation  to  re- 
form the  Irish  land  system. 

The  land  system  needed  reforming;   the  condition 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HIS  TORY.  287 

of  the  tenant  was  only  humanly  endurable  in  years  of 
good  harvest.  The  three  years  from  1876  to  1879  were 
years  of  successive  bad  harvests.  The  failure  of  the 
potato  crop  threatened  the  bulk  of  the  population  of 
Ireland  with  starvation.  The  horrors  of  the  famine  of 
1847  seemed  likely  to  be  seen  again  in  Ireland.  The 
Irish  members  urged  Lord  Beaconsfield's  government 
to  take  some  action  to  relieve  the  distress  ;  but  nothing 
was  done,  and  the  distress  increased.  Early  in  August 
it  was  plain  that  the  harvest  was  gone  ;  the  potato 
crjp,  which  had  fallen  in  1877  from  ^Ti  2,400,000  to 
^5,200,000,  had  now  fallen  to  ^3,300,000  ;  famine  was 
close  at  hand.  Mr.  Davitt  had  been  in  America,  plan- 
ning out  a  land  organization,  and  had  returned  to  Ire- 
la:id  to  carry  out  his  plan.  Land  meetings  were  held 
in  many  parts  of  Ireland,  and  in  October  Mr.  Parnell, 
Mr.  Davitt,  Mr.  Patrick  Egan,  and  Mr.  Thomas  Bren- 
nan  founded  the  Irish  National  Land  League,  the  most 
powerful  political  organization  that  had  been  formed 
in  Ireland  since  the  Union.  The  objects  of  the  Land 
League  were  the  abolition  of  the  existing  landlord 
system  and  the  introduction  of  peasant  proprietorship. 
The  Land  League- once  founded,  Mr.  Parnell  imme- 
diately went  to  America  to  raise  money  to  meet  the 
distress  ;  and  while  in  America  he  was  invited  to  state 
the  case  of  Ireland  before  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives at  Washington.  He  returned  to  Ireland  with 
nearly  ^250,000  for  the  relief  of  distress,  and  many 
thousands  for  the  political  purposes  of  the  Land 
League.  Relief  was  indeed  imperative,  famine  was 
abroad,  and  eviction  had  kept  pace  with  famine.  There 
were  over  twelve  hundred  evictions  in  1876,  over  thir- 
teen hundred  in  1877,  over  seventeen  hundred  in  1878, 
and  nearly  four  thousand  in  1879 — over  ten  thousand 
evictions  in  four  years.  The  government  did  nothing 
to  stay  famine  or  eviction  ;  it  contented  itself  with  put- 
ting Mr.  Davitt  and  some  other  Land  Leaguers  on  trial 
for  some  speeches  they  had  made,  but  the  prosecutions 
had  to  be  abandoned.  The  Land  League  Fund,  large 
as  it  was,  was  not  nearly  enough  to  cope  with  the  ex- 
isting distress,  and  fresh  funds  were  raised  by  the  Lord 
Mayor  of  Dublin,  Mr.  E.  D.  Gray,  M.P.,  and  by  the 
Duchess  of  Marlborough,  wife  of  the  Lord-lieutenant, 


288  AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

whose  generous  action  was  in  curious  contradiction 
to  the  repeated  assurances  of  the  government  that  no 
serious  distress  existed.  The  condition  of  the  country 
was  strengthening  the  Land  League  and  weakening 
the  government.  Lord  Beaconsfield  appealed  to  the 
country,  denouncing  the  Liberal  party  for  their  sym- 
pathy with  Irish  faction.  The  Home  Rule  members 
of  the  House  of  Commons  issued  a  manifesto  calling 
upon  Irishmen  everywhere  to  vote  against  the  sup- 
porters of  Lord  Beaconsfield's  government.  The  ad- 
vice was  implicitly  followed.  The  general  election  re- 
turned Mr.  Gladstone  to  power  at  the  head  of  a  large 
majority.  The  Home  Rule  party  in  the  House  was 
largely  reinforced,  chiefly  by  men  returned  under  the 
influence  of  Mr.  Parnell,  who  was  now  definitely  elect- 
ed as  the  leader  of  the  Irish  parliamentary  party. 

Mr.  Shaw  and  a  few  friends  separated  themselves 
from  Mr.  Parnell's  party  and  sat  on  the  Ministerial 
side  of  the  House,  while  Mr.  Parnell  and  his  followers 
sat  with  the  Opposition.  The  Irish  party  had  great 
hopes  from  Mr.  Gladstone's  government,  on  account  of 
the  strong  Radical  element  in  its  constitution,  and  be- 
cause it  expressed  the  intention  of  dispensing  with  ex- 
ceptional legislation.  The  government,  on  its  part, 
undoubtedly  expected  cordial  allies  in  the  members  of 
the  advanced  Irish  party.  Both  sides  were  disap- 
pointed. Truly  says  Mr.  Sullivan,  "  When  one  looks 
back  on  the  warm  sympathies  and  the  bright  hopes  of 
that  hour,  the  realities  of  the  situation  in  1882  seem 
like  the  impossible  sorrows  and  disappointments  and 
disasters  of  a  horrid  dream."  It  was,  perhaps,  impos- 
sible that  it  should  be  otherwise.  In  the  excitement 
of  a  great  general  election,  the  sympathies  between  the 
English  Liberals  and  the  Irish  people  were,  perhaps, 
unconsciously  exaggerated,  and  pledges  were,  if  not 
made,  suggested,  by  men  striving  to  overthrow  the 
Tory  government,  which  were  not  found  easy  to  imme- 
diately satisfy  when  they  became,  in  their  turn,  the 
members  and  supporters  of  a  government.  The  Irish. 
party,  on  the  other  hand,  found  that  the  hopes  that 
they  had  entertained  of  speedy  settlement  of  some  of 
the  most  pressing  Irish  grievances  were  not  to  be  real- 
ized as  rapidly  as  they  had  expected.     There  was  thus 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  289 

a  coolness  between  the  government  and  the  new  Irish 
party  as  soon  as  the  new  Parliament  began,  and  this 
coolness  gradually  deepened  into  distinct  hostility. 

There  was  soon  an  open  breach.  The  wretched  con- 
dition of  the  Irish  tenants,  and  the  terrible  number  of 
evictions,  led  the  Irish  party  to  bring  forward  a  bill  for 
the  purpose  of  staying  evictions.  The  government, 
which  up  to  that  time  had  not  seen  its  way  to  take  any 
action,  then  adopted  some  Irish  suggestions  in  its  Com- 
pensation for  Disturbance  Bill,  which  proposed  to  ex- 
tend for  a  very  few  months  a  portion  of  the  Ulster 
tenant-right  custom,  which  gives  a  dispossessed  tenant 
compensation  for  improvements  he  may  have  made.  It 
was  rejected  by  the  House  of  Lords,  and  the  govern- 
ment refused  to  take  any  steps  to  force  the  Lords  to  ac- 
cept it.  But  it  promised  to  bring  in  a  comprehensive 
measure  the  next  session,  and  it  appointed  a  commis- 
sion to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  the  agricultural 
population  of  Ireland,  on  vchich  commission  they  ab- 
solutely refused  to  give  any  place  to  any  representative 
of  the  tenant-farmers'  cause.  The  agitation  out  of 
doors  increased.  The  Land  League  advised  the  people 
to  co-operate  for  their  own  interests,  and  to  form  a  sort 
of  trade-union  of  the  tenant  class,  and  to  stand  by  each 
other  in  passively  resisting,  not  merely  evictions,  but 
exactions  of  what  they  considered  an  unjust  amount  of 
rent  above  the  rate  of  Griffith's  valuation, 

Griffith's  valuation  was  undoubtedly  a  very  rough- 
and-tumble  way  of  estimating  the  value  of  lanS,  but, 
at  least,  it  was  very  much  more  reasonable  to  go  by 
than  the  rates  of  the  rack-rents.  All  rents,  therefore, 
above  Griffith's  valuation  w^ere  condemned  by  the  Land 
League,  and  a  practical  strike  was  organized  against 
the  landlords  extorting  them.  The  strike  was  sup- 
ported by  a  form  of  action,  or  rather  inaction,  which 
soon  became  historical.  Boycotting,  so  called  from 
the  name  of  its  first  victim,  meant  the  social  excom- 
munication of  any  rack-renting  or  evicting  landlord, 
any  oppressive  agent,  any  land-grabber.  No  one  who 
held  the  cause  of  the  League  dear  was  to  work  for,  buy 
from,  sell  to,  or  hold  any  communication  with  the  ob- 
noxious persons.  The  process  was  strictly  legal ;  noth- 
ing was  to  be  done  to  the  offender  ;  nothing  was  to  be 


290  AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

done  for  him.  So  long  as  the  League  and  its  followers  acted 
strictly  within  the  law,  kept  simply  on  the  defensive,  and 
avoided  all  aggression,  its  position  was  invulnerable.  The 
famine  and  the  accompanying  evictions  had  left  bitter  fruit. 
Men  who  had  been  starving,who  had  seen  their  families,  their 
friends,  dying  of  hunger,  who  had  been  evicted  to  rot  on  the 
roadside  for  all  that  their  landlord  cared — such  men  were  not 
in  the  spirit  for  peaceful  counsels.  The  proud  patience  which 
the  gods  are  said  to  love  is  not  always  easy  to  assume,  at 
least  for  unpolished  peasants,  starving,  homeless,  smarting 
under  a  burning  sense  of  wrong,  and  a  wild,  helpless  desire 
for  revenge.  There  were  many  outrages  in  different  parts 
of  the  country,  as  there  had  been  after  every  Irish  famine; 
men  were  killed  here  and  there;  cattle,  too,  were  killed  and 
mutilated.  These  outrages  were  made  the  most  of  in  Eng- 
land. Scattered  murders  were  spoken  of  as  part  of  a  widely 
planned  organization  of  massacre.  People  were  eloquent 
in  their  sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  cattle  and  horses  in 
Ireland  who  never  were  known  to  feel  one  throb  of  pity  at 
the  fashionable  sin  of  torturing  pigeons  at  Hurlingham. 
But  Ireland  was  disturbed,  and  for  the  disturbance  there 
was  what  Mr.  Bright  had  called  at  an  earlier  period  of  his 
career  the  ever-poisonous  remedy  of  coercion.  Ministerial- 
ists argued  that  within  ten  months  the  mutilation  of  animals 
in  Ireland  had  increased, to  forty-seven,  therefore  the  liber- 
ties of  a  nation  of  five  millions  should  be  suspended.  They 
forgot  that  in  the  same  ten  months  of  the  same  year  there 
was  a  total  of  3,489  convictions  in  England  for  cruelty  to 
animals,  many  cases  of  which  were  of  the  most  horrible 
kind. 

Mr.  Parnell,  Mr.  Dillon,  Mr.  Sexton,  and  other  Members 
of  Parliament,  were  prosecuted.  At  the  trial,  Mr.  Justice 
Fitzgerald  declared  that  the  Land  League  was  an  illegal 
body.  The  government  cannot  then  have  agreed  with  Judge 
Fitzgerald,  or  it  would  scarcely  have  allowed  the  League  to 
mcrease  in  strength  for  the  greater  part  of  a  year  with  im- 
punity. The  state  trials  came  on  at  the  close  of  1880.  As 
the  jury  could  not  agree,  Mr.  Parnell  went  back  to  Parlia- 
ment with  greater  power  than  he  ever  had  before.  When 
Parliament  met  in  1881,  it  was  known  that  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
going  to  bring  in  a  Land  Bill  and  a  Coercion  Bill.     The 


AjV  outline  of  IRISH  HISTORY.  391 

Land  League's  advocacy  of  open  agitation  had  done  much 
to  decrease  the  secret  conspiracy  which  Coercion  bills  have 
always  engendered.  The  government  refused  any  conces- 
sion. They  would  not  even  bring  in  the  Land  Bill  first, 
and  the  Coercion  Bill  afterwards.  Then  the  Irish  members 
broke  away  from  the  government  altogether,  and  opposed 
the  Coercion  Bill  with  all  the  means  in  their  power  that  par- 
liamentary forms  allowed.  For  many  days  they  successfully 
impeded  the  measure,  and  the  obstruction  was  only  brought 
to  a  close  in  the  end  of  February  by  a  coup  d'etat^  when  the 
Speaker,  intervening,  declared  that  the  debate  must  go  no 
further.  The  next  day  Mr.  Michael  Davitt  was  arrested. 
The  news  was  received  with  exultation  in  the  house,*  and 
with  indignation  by  the  Irish  members,  who  strove  to  speak 
against  it,  and  thirty-six  were  expelled  from  the  sitting  in 
consequence. 

The  severance  of  the  extreme  Irish  party  and  the  govern- 
ment was  now  complete.  Mr.  Bright,  who  had  often  sup- 
ported Ireland  before,  and  was  looked  upon  as  a  true  friend 
by  the  Irish  people,  was  now  one  of  the  bitterest  opponents 
of  the  whole  national  movement  and  of  its  parliamentary 
leaders.  The  Irish  national  press  was  fiercely  exasperated 
to  find  Mr.  Bright  voting  for  coercion  for  Ireland.  He  had, 
indeed,  voted  for  coercion  before  in  his  younger  days,  but  he 
had  always  been  eloquent  against  it,  and  his  utterances  were 
brought  up  against  him  by  the  Irish  papers.  They  remind- 
ed him  that  in  1866  he  had  described  coercion  for  Ireland 
as  an  "ever-failing  and  ever-poisonous  remedy,"  and  they 
asked  him  why  he  recommended  the  unsuccessful  and  ven- 
omous legislation  now.  They  pointed  to  his  speech  of  1849, 
in  which  he  said,  "  The  treatment  of  this  Irish  malady  re- 
mains ever  the  same.  We  have  nothing  for  it  still  but  force 
and  alms."  They  quoted  from  his  speech  of  1847:  **  I  am 
thoroughly  convinced  that  everything  the  government  or 
Parliament  can  do  for  Ireland  will  be  unavailing  unless  the 
foundation  of  the  work  be  laid  deep  and  well,  by  clearing 
away  the  fetters  under  which  land  is  now  held,  so  that  it  may 


*  "  Every  English  member  in  the  House  rose  to  his  feet  on  the  an- 
nouncement of  Mr.  Davitt's  arrest,  and  such  enthusiastic  cheering  was 
never  before  known  in  Parliament,"  says  one  report. 


292  AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

become  the  possession  of  real  owners,  and  be  made  instru- 
mental to  the  employment  and  sustentation  of  the  people. 
Honorable  gentleman  opposite  may  fancy  themselves  inter- 
ested in  maintaining  the  present  system;  but  there  is  surely 
no  interest  they  can  have  in  it  which  will  weigh  against  the 
safety  and  prosperity  of  Ireland."  Such  a  passage  as  this 
might  have  served,  it  was  urged,  as  a  motto  for  the  Land 
League  itself.  What  other  doctrine  did  the  Land  League 
uphold  but  that  the  land  should  become  the  possession  of 
real  owners,  and  be  made  instrumental  to  the  employment 
and  sustentation  of  the  people  ?  Might  not  the  Land  League 
have  fairly  asked  the  government  what  interest  it  could  have 
in  the  present  system  of  land  which  would  weigh  against  the 
safety  and  prosperity  of  Ireland  ?  Had  he  not  told  them, 
too,  in  1866,  that  "  The  great  evil  of  Ireland  is  this:  that 
the  Irish  people — the  Irish  nation — are  dispossessed  of  the 
soil;  and  what  we  ought  to  do  is  to  provide  for  and  aid  in 
their  restoration  to  it  by  all  measures  of  justice  ? "  He  dis- 
liked the  action  of  the  Irish  members  now,  because  they 
were  acting  against  the  Liberal  party;  but  had  he  not  said 
in  1866  also,  "  If  Irishmen  were  united,  if  you  one  hundred 
and  five  members  were  for  the  most  part  agreed,  you  might 
do  almost  anything  that  you  liked;  "  and  further  said,  "  If 
there  were  one  hundred  more  members,  the  representatives 
of  large  and  free  constituencies,  then  your  cry  would  be 
heard,  and  the  people  would  give  you  that  justice  which 
a  class  has  so  long  denied  you."  "Exactly,"  replied  his 
Irish  critics.  "We  have  now  a  united  body  of  Irishmen, 
the  largest  and  most  united  the  House  has  ever  seen,  and 
you  do  not  seem  to  look  kindly  upon  it.  You  do  not  seem 
to  be  acting  up  to  your  promise  made  in  Dublin  in  1866 — 
'  If  I  have  in  past  times  felt  an  unquenchable  sympathy  with 
the  sufferings  of  your  people,  you  may  rely  upon  it  that  if 
there  be  an  Irish  member  to  speak  for  Ireland,  he  will  find 
me  heartily  by  his  side.'  "  At  the  same  speech  in  Dublin, 
Mr.  Bright  said,  "  If  I  could  be  in  all  other  things  the  same, 
but  in  birth  an  Irishman,  there  is  not  a  town  in  this  island  I 
would  not  visit  for  the  purpose  of  discussing  the  great  Irish 
question,  and  of  rousing  my  countrymen  to  some  great  and 
united  action."  "  This  is  exactly  what  we  are  doing,"  said 
his  Land  League  critics;  "why  do  you  denounce  us  now? 


AN  OUTLINE    OF  IRISH  HISTORY,  293 

Why  do  you  vote  for  Coercion  Acts  to  prevent  the  discus- 
sion of  the  great  Irish  question  ? " 

But  all  such  recriminations  were  vain  and  valueless.  Mr. 
Bright  had  changed  his  opinions,  and  there  was  no  more 
use  in  reminding  him  that  he  had  once  encouraged  Irish 
agitation  than  in  taunting  Mr.  Gladstone  with  having  been 
once  a  member  of  the  Tory  party.  That  Mr.  Bright  was 
no  longer  a  friend  to  the  leaders  of  Irish  public  opinion, 
that  he  was  no  longer  at  the  side  of  those  who  undoubt- 
edly represented  the  feeling  of  the  nation,  was  a  mat- 
ter indeed  for  regret.  A  friend  the  less,  an  enemy  the 
more,  is  always  to  be  regretted.  But  they  had  to  go  on  and 
do  the  best  they  could  without  him;  they  could  not  turn 
from  the  course  of  their  duty,  even  because  a  great  speaker 
and  a  great  statesman  did  not  think  and  act  in  his  old  age 
as  he  had  thought  and  acted  when  he  was  younger. 

After  the  Coercion  Act  was  passed,  one  or  two  men  were 
arrested,  and  then  the  government  arrested  Mr.  John  Dil- 
lon. Mr.  John  Dillon  was  one  of  the  most  extreme  of  the 
Irish  members.  His  father  was  Mr.  John  B.  Dillon,  the 
rebel  of  1848,  and  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Nation  news- 
paper. When  the  rebellion  was  crushed,  John  Dillon  fled 
to  France,  and  returned  to  England  years  later,  under  the 
general  amnesty,  and  was  elected  for  the  county  Tipperary. 
He  earned  honorable  distinction  in  the  House  of  Commons 
by  his  efforts  to  bring  about  an  alliance  between  the  Irish 
party  and  the  English  Radicals,  and  some  of  Mr.  John 
Bright' s  speeches  contain  the  warmest  tributes  to  his  honor 
and  his  ability.  Mr.  John  Dillon,  the  son,  was  a  man  of 
much  more  extreme  opinions.  He  was  imbued  with  the  in- 
tense detestation  of  English  rule  which  English  politicians 
find  it  difficult  to  understand,  and  he  never  seemed  to  have 
much  sympathy  with  or  belief  in  parliamentary  agitation. 
Some  months  after  his  imprisonment  Mr.  Dillon  was  re- 
leased, on  account  of  ill  health.  The  Coercion  Bill  proved 
a  hopeless  failure.  The  government  did  its  best  by  impris- 
oning members  of  the  Land  League,  local  leaders,  priests, 
and  others,  in  all  directions,  to  give  the  country  over  again 
into  the  hands  of  Ribbonmen  and  other  conspirators,  and 
take  it  out  of  the  hands  of  the  constitutional  agitators. 
The  Land  Bill  was  passed,  and  proved  to  be  utterly  inade- 
quate to  the  purpose  it  was  intended  to  serve. 


^^4  AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

With  the  conclusion  of  Parliament  a  Land  League  Con- 
vention was  summoned  in  the  Rotunda,  Dublin,  in  the  early 
days  of  September,  1881.  The  convention  represented  the 
public  feeling  of  Ireland,  as  far  as  public  opinion  ever  can  be 
represented  by  a  delegated  body.  The  descendants  of  the 
Cromvvellian  settlers  of  the  norrti  sat  side  by  side  with  men 
of  the  rebel  blood  of  Tipperary,  with  the  impetuous  people 
of  the  south,  with  the  strong  men  of  the  midland  hunting 
counties.  The  most  remarkable  feature  of  the  meeting 
was  the  vast  number  of  priests  who  were  present. 

The  attitude  of  the  Catholic  clergy  of  Ireland  towards  the 
League  was  very  remarkable.     It  was  said  at  first,  by  those 
who  did  not  understand  the  Irish  clergy,  that  the  Church 
and  the  League  would  never  form  an  alliance.     The  Land 
League  soon  began  to  gain  powerful  supporters  among  the 
Irish   ecclesiastics.     Archbishop    McCabe    had  attacked   it 
early  in  the  movement.     His  attack  had  raised  up  a  power- 
ful champion  of  the  Land  League  in  Archbishop  Croke,  of 
Cashel.     The  Nationalists  welcomed  Archbishop  Croke  as 
their  religious  leader,  and  he  travelled  through  Ireland  in  a 
sort  of  triumph,  receiving  from  the  peasantry  everywhere 
the  most  enthusiastic  reception.     The  priests  in  general  be- 
gan to  accept  the  Land  League  programme  enthusiastically. 
The  priesthood  have  always  been  the  warmest  supporters 
of  any  movement  that  has  really  appeared  to  promise  to  do 
good  to  the  Irish  people.     Clerical  sympathy  with  the  Land 
League  was  in  itself  a  proof  of  its  law-abiding  and  consti- 
tutional principles,  which  ought  to  have  counted  for  much 
with  the  government.     But  the  government  appeared  to  be 
obstinately  shut  against  all  impressions.     Instead  of  being 
impressed  by  the  significance  of  the  ecclesiastical  support 
of  the  League,  the  government  seemed  determined  to  force 
the  priests  ^and  the  Leaguers  into  closer  sympathy  by  ar- 
resting, on  the   20th   of    May,   a  Catholic    priest,    Father 
Eugene  Sheehy,  of  Kilmallock.     A  great  number  of  priests 
spoke  at  the  Convention,  young  and  old;  all  were  in  warm 
sympathy  with  the  League  and  its  leaders.     The  meeting 
was  singularly  quiet;  the  speeches  were  moderate  in  the  ex- 
treme; but  the  country  was  in  a  terribly  disordered  state, 
and  even  the  strong  force  of   coercion  struggled  in  vain 
against  the  general  disorganization. 


AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  295 

At  this  crisis  the  government,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
liberated  Father  Sheehy,  who  at  once  comm.enced  a  vigor- 
ous crusade  against  the  ministry,  and  his  entry  into  Cork, 
in  company  with  Mr.  Parnell,  resembled  a  Roman  triumph. 
The  government  was  now  determined  to  make  a  bold  stroke. 
Mr.  Gladstone  made  a  bitter  attack  on  Mr.  Parnell,  to  which 
Mr.  Parnell  fiercely  replied,  and  a  few  days  after  a  descent 
was  made  upon  the  leaders  of  the  Land  League.  Mr.  Par- 
nell, Mr.  Sextouj  Mr.  Dillon,  and  the  chief  officers  of  the 
League  were  arrested,  and  conveyed  to  Kilmainham  prison. 
Mr.  Egan,  who  was  in  Paris,  and  some  others,  escaped  ar- 
rest.    An  address  *  was  at  once  issued  to  the  Irish  tenants, 

*  This  address  which  was  known  as  "  the  No  Rent  manifesto,"  roused 
the  Irish  race  in  America  to  unprecedented  action.  A  huge  conven- 
tion was  called  at  Chicago  and  a  pledge  of  financial  backing  given  the 
"people  at  home"  on  the  lines  of  that  manifesto.  An  idea  of  the  en- 
thusiasm manifested  over  this  exhibition  of  pluck  and  detremination  in  the 
Irish  leaders  may  be  had  from  the  fact  that  the  Irish  World  alone  com- 
menced to  raise  and  cable  funds  at  the  rate  of  $15,000  a  week,  going  as 
high  as  $17,000.  The  world  has  never  witnessed  such  a  popular  money- 
raising  era.     The  manifesto  was  clothed  in  the  following  language: 

"PAY  NO  RENT!" 
The  Land  League  Will  Stand  by  the  Evicted, 

THE   manifesto. 

Fellow  Citizens — The  hour  to  try  your  souls  and  to  redeem  your 
pledges  has  arrived.  The  executive  of  the  National  Land  League, 
forced  to  abandon  its  policy  of  testing  the  Land  Act,  feels  bound  to  ad- 
vise the  tenant  farmers  of  Ireland  from  this  day  forth  to  pay  no  rents  un- 
der any  circumstanCfes  to  their  landlords  until  Government  relinquishes 
the  existing  system  of  terrorism  and  restores  the  constitutional  rights  of 
the  people.  Do  not  be  daunted  by  the  removal  of  your  leaders.  Do 
not  let  yourselves  be  intimidated  by  threats  of  military  violence.  It  is 
as  lawful  to  refuse  to  pay  rents  as  it  is  to  receive  them.  Against  the  pas- 
sive resistance  of  the  entire  population  military  power  has  no  weapon. 
Funds  will  be  poured  out  unstintedly  for  the  support  of  all  who  may  en- 
dure eviction  in  the  course  of  the  struggle.  Our  exiled  brothers  in 
America  may  be  relied  upon  to  contribute  if  necessary  as  many  millions 
of  money  as  they  have  contributed  thousands  to  starve  out  Landlordism 
and  bring  English  tyranny  to  its  knees.  You  have  only  to  show  that 
you  are  not  unworthy  of  their  boundless  sacrifices.  One  more  crowning 
struggle  for  your  land,  your  homes,  your  lives — a  struggle  in  which  you 
have  all  the  memories  of  your  race,  all  the  hopes  of  your  kindred  and  all 
the  sacrifices  of  your  imprisoned  brothers. 

One  more  struggle  in  which  you  have  the  hope  of  happy  homes  and 


296  AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

signed  by  the  imprisoned  Land  Leaguers,  and  calling  upon 
them  to  pay  no  rent  until  their  leaders  were  liberated.  The 
government  immediately  declared  the  Land  League  illegal, 
and  suppressed  its  branches  throughout  the  country.  The 
result  was  a  great  increase  in  the  outrages,  and  the  country 
became  more  disturbed  than  ever.  The  men  who  could 
have  kept  it  quiet,  who  had  restrained  the  popular  feeling, 
were  in  prison. 

After  a  while  Mr.  Sexton  was  liberated  on  account  of  ill- 
health,  and  the  imprisonment  of  the  other  Land  League 
leaders  was  evidently  a  great  embarrassment  to  the  govern- 
ment. Private  overtures  of  freedom  were  made  to  them, 
if  they  would  consent  to  leave  the  country  for  a  time — at 
least,  of  freedom,  if  they  would  consent  to  cross  the  Chan- 
nel to  the  Continent,  even  though  they  came  back  the  next 
day.  But  the  prisoners  refused  any  such  compromise. 
They  considered  that  they  had  been  unfairly  imprisoned, 
and  they  would  accept  no  conditions.  Meanwhile  the  affairs 
of  the  country  were  going  from  bad  to  worse.  The  govern- 
ment was  unable  to  cope  with  the  disaffection,  and  the  Land 
Act  was  unavailing  to  meet  the  misery  of  the  people.  What 
Mr.  Parnell  has  always  predicted  has  come  to  pass.  The 
Land  Courts  were  overcrowded  with  work;  there  were  thou- 
sands of  cases  in  hand,  which  it  would  take  years  to  dispose 
of,  and  in  the  meantime  the  people  were  suffering  terribly, 
and  the  landlords  were  taking  every  advantage  of  the  delay. 
To  meet  the  difficulty,  Mr.  Parnell  sent  out  from  his  prison 

national  freedom  to  inspire  you,  one  more  heroic  effort  to  destroy  Land- 
lordism, a«d  the  system  which  was  and  is  the  curse  of  your  race  will 
have  disappeared  forever.  Stand  together  in  face  of  the  brutal,  cow- 
ardly enemies  of  your  race!  Pay  no  rent  under  any  pretext!  Stand, 
passively,  firmly,  fearlessly  by,  while  the  armies  of  England  may  be  en- 
gaged in  their  hopeless  struggle  against  the  spirit  which  their  wea- 
pons cannot  touch,  and  the  government,  with  its  bayonets,  will  learn  in 
a  single  winter  how  powerless  are  armed  forces  against  the  will  of  a 
united,  determined  and  self-reliant  nation. 

Charles  S.  Parnell, 
A.  J.  Kettle, 
Michael  Davitt,. 
John  Dillon, 
Thomas  Brennan^ 
Thomas  Sexton^ 
Patrick  Egan. 


AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  ^97 

the  draft  of  an  Arrears  Bill  to  relieve  the  tenant  from  the 
pressure  of  past  rent,  and  this  measure  was  practically  ac- 
cepted by  the  government,  who  promised,  if  the  Irish  party 
withdrew  their  measure,  to  bring  in  a  ministerial  bill  to 
the  same  effect.  Fresh  surprises  were  in  store.  Rumors 
of  a  change  of  policy  on  the  part  of  the  government  were 
suddenly  confirmed  by  the  liberation  of  Mr.  Parnell,  Mr. 
Dillon,  Mr.  O'Kelly,  and  many  other  of  the  Land  League 
prisoners,  and,  more  surprising  still,  by  the  release  of  Mr. 
Michael  Davitt.*  Ever  since  the  suppression  of  the  Land 
League  the  fiercer  spirit  of  the  secret  societies  had  been 
abroad  in  Ireland.  To  them  the  ministerial  concessions 
pointed  at  a  reconcilement  which  they  detested. 

The  ministry  seemed  really  to  have  awakened  to  the  grav- 
ity of  the  situation,  and  to  have  suddenly  accepted  Fox's 
theory  of  the  necessity  of  governing  Ireland  according  to 
Irish  ideas.  Mr.  Forster,  the  most  uncompromising  oppo- 
nent of  such  a  theory,  resigned,  and  Lord  Frederick  Caven- 
dish, a  younger  son  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  was  ap- 
pointed Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland  in  his  place.  Then 
came  the  terrible  Phoenix  Park  tragedy.  On  Saturday  the 
6th  of  May,  1882,  Lord  Frederick  Cavendish  landed  in 
Dublin;  that  same  evening  he  and  Mr.  Burke,  one  of  the 
Castle  officials,  were  killed  in  the  Phoenix  Park  in  the  clear 
summer  twilight,  by  persons  who  escaped  at  the  time. 

The  government  at  once  brought  in  a  Crimes  Bill,  one  of 
the  most  stringent  ever  passed  against  Ireland.  It  then 
brought  in,  and  carried,  after  a  strong  opposition  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  its  Arrears  Bill,  a  measure  to  enable  the 
tenant  farmers  of  Ireland,  under  certain  conditions,  to  wipe 
out  the  arrears  of  rent  which  had  accumulated  upon  them. 

In  the  August  of  1882  a  National  Exhibition  of  Irish 
manufactures  was  opened  in  Dublin,  the  first  enterprise  of 
the  kind  ever  conducted  by  the  national  party,  in  complete 
independence  from  Castle  patronage;  it  was  a  great  success. 

*  The  negotiations  which  brought  these  things  about  are  known  in  the 
popular  mind  as  the  "  Kilmainham  Treaty,"  and  have  been  severely 
criticised  by  American  nationalists,  whose  principal  objection  was  that 
they  had  been  led  into  unusual  efforts  to  raise  money  by  the  issuance  of 
the  '*  No  Rent  Manifesto,"  which  manifesto  was  quietly  withdrawn  by 
these  negotiations. 


"298  AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

On  the  day  that  the  exhibition  was  opened,  a  statue  of 
O'Connell  was  unveiled  in  Sackville  Street,  opposite  the 
O'Connell  Bridge,  and  a  vast  procession  of  all  the  guilds 
and  associations  of  DubUn  was  organized  in  its  honor. 
There  was  a  conviction  in  England,  and  in  the  minds  of 
the  Castle  authorities,  that  such  an  event  could  not  pass  off 
without  some  desperate  scenes  of  disorder,  if  not  of  insur- 
rection. But  the  peace  and  order  of  Ireland's  capital  city- 
was  not  disturbed,  and  the  spectacle  of  the  vast  procession, 
many  miles  in  length,  of  the  stately  statue  that  had  been 
raised  to  a  national  hero,  of  the  beautiful  building  richly 
stored  with  the  work  of  Irish  hands,  and  the  creations  of 
Irish  intellect,  all  accomplished  entirely  by  the  Irish  people 
themselves,  under  the  guidance  of  their  national  leaders, 
without  foreign  aid  or  countenance,  afforded  one  of  the 
strongest  arguments  in  favor  of  Home  Rule  ever  advanced 
in  Ireland.  A  people  who  could  carry  out  so  successfully, 
with  such  perfect  peace  and  order,  so  difficult  an  enterprise, 
might  be  admitted,  even  by  the  most  prejudiced,  to  have 
within  them  all  the  capacity  for  successful  self-government. 
On  the  day  following  the  O'Connell  Centennial,  the  free- 
dom of  the  City  of  Dublin  was  conferred  on  Mr.  Parnell  and 
Mr.  Dillon.  The  same  day  another  popular  Irish  member, 
Mr.  E.  D.  Gray,  M. P.,  was  committed  to  Richmond  prison, 
O'Connell' s  old  prison,  on  a  charge  of  contempt  of  court, 
which  was  the  cause  of  a  parliamentary  inquiry  into  the  ex- 
ercise of  that  curious  judicial  privilege.  Mr.  Gray  was  the 
owner  of  the  Freeman's  Jonrfial,  and  at  the  time  was  High 
Sheriff  of  Dublin.  He  had  written  in  his  paper  some  cen- 
sures on  the  conduct  of  a  jury  *  whose  verdict  had  sentenced 
a  man  to  death.  The  judge  before  whom  the  case  had  been 
tried,  Mr.  Justice  Lawson,  immediately  sent  Mr.  Gray  to 
prison  for  three  months  for  contempt  of  court,  and  fined 
him  ;£5oo.  After  two  months'  imprisonment  Mr.  Gray 
was  released;  the  fine  was  paid  by  subscription  in  a  few 
days.  When  Parliament  met  in  a  winter  session,  the  case 
was  brought  forward  as  one  of  privilege,  and  submitted  to 
a  select  committee. 

*  The  Fieeman's  Journal  \\2^di  undertaken  to  describe  the  drunken 
orgies  of  a  packed  jury  which  held  the  life  of  an  innocent  man,  Francis 
Hynes,  since  admitted  to  have  been  innocent  by  the  members  of  the 
government  that  hanged  him. 


AN  OUTLINE  OF  IRISH  HISTORY.  299 

At  one  time  during  the  autumn  of  1882,  the  Irish  execu- 
tive seemed  likely  to  be  much  embarrassed  by  a  strike 
among  the  Irish  Constabulary,  a  body  of  men  on  whom  the 
executive  naturally  were  forced  to  depend  greatly.  Some 
hundreds  of  police  struck;  there  were  some  fierce  distur- 
bances in  Dublin;  at  one  time  it  seemed  as  if  the  police  in 
every  town  in  Ireland  were  discontented  and  prepared  to 
combine  against  the  government;  but  the  government  made 
some  concessions,  and  what  at  one  time  seemed  a  very  se- 
rious danger  faded  away  into  nothingness. 

In  October  another  National  Convention  was  held  in 
Dublin,  and  a  new  and  vast  organization  formed,  embracing 
in  one  all  the  Irish  demands  for  Home  Rule  and  for  Land 
Reform.  With  its  inauguration  begins  a  new  chapter  in 
Irish  history. 


FORDS'  NATIONAL  LIBRARY. 


BE  SURE  TO  GET  VOLUME  1,  NUMBER  i. 


AS  VIEWED  BY 

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